The Only Exception
by BlaiddDrwg30
Summary: When a young novelist visits the new Avengers compound in order to write a novel about the superheroes, she finds she may be in over her head. Especially when Black Widow begins to pay her close attention. Spoilers for Avengers: Age of Ultron. Rated for bisexuality and some sexual situations in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_"I've always lived like this;_  
 _keeping a comfortable distance._  
 _And up until now I had sworn to myself,_  
 _that I'm content with loneliness._  
 _Because none of it was ever worth the risk._  
 _But you are, the only exception..._  
 _I've got a tight grip on reality,_  
 _but I can't_  
 _let go to what you do to me here._  
 _And you are, the only exception,_  
 _And I'm on my way to believing..."_

"You know I didn't think there would ever come a time where you surprised me," said Pepper Potts as she sat primly in a leather high-back chair. "But I stand corrected," she continued. "Because I am quite surprised.

"Well, it **has** been said that I'm full of surprises," the man across from her said, with a slightly arrogant grin. "And surprised is good. I was expecting the word you used to be more along the lines of; annoyed, flabbergasted, or frustrated. So I'll take surprise."

"Oh, I didn't say surprised was the **only** thing I was feeling," she said with a slight smile. "But really, Tony, with as much as you adore publicity and being in the spotlight, I'm surprised that you're not more enthusiastic about this."

Tony Stark leaned back in his chair, his posture displaying a casual sense of ease. "Pepper, there's a big difference between my publicity as Iron Man and the publicity regarding the Avengers."

"Is that because of what happened with Bruce?" she asked quietly.

He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Partially. The last incident with the Hulk causing all that damage, well, it not only ruined a lot of buildings and scared the hell out of a lot of people, but it really affected the way the public views us as a whole."

"The Stark relief foundation took care of most of the wreckage and the wounded," Pepper responded.

Tony shook his head. "The damage is nothing compared to the negativity that is now permeating throughout the publics opinion of us. Yes, we stopped Ultron, and yes we saved the world. But that was yesterday's news. And todays news is how dangerous superheroes can be. People are afraid Pepper. And they're afraid of us. The damage control we're going to need to preform on the attitudes of the people is going to take a lot longer and be more precarious than anything a relief fund can manage."

Pepper felt suddenly alarmed. "Tony...are you okay? I've never seen you so concerned over something like this before. That's usually my prerogative." She let out a weak laugh. "Looks like for once our roles are reversed."

He looked unusually troubled. "It's just...this feeling that I have. That something's coming. Something only we can stop. And we need the world behind us if we are going to succeed. And that includes us not getting rotten vegetables thrown at us every time we leave the facility, because people fear us and hate us."

"You've had people throw vegetables at you? Really?" Pepper asked, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Well, I'm Tony Stark, in case you've forgotten, so no. I don't get things thrown at me. Except money. And women's' underwear. But that's beside the point. I mostly said it because I'm looking out for the others, especially Barton. He seems like the kind of guy that gets crap thrown at him all the time. Being that he's so incorrigible."

She stifled a smile and nodded, pretending to agree with him. "Of course."

"So why are **you** so interested in this?" he asked Pepper.

"Well I do run Stark Industries after all," she replied wryly. "Public relations is an important part of it." She folded her hands in her lap. "Look, I'm just as worried about publication as you are. Probably more so, since I've been the one to deal with all the previous bad publicity. But I met her. The girl I'm interested in."

"The girl you're _interested in?_ Well I could get used to hearing that!"

"Tony, for god's sake," Pepper snapped. "Can you keep it together please?"

"Right. Sorry," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Anyway," she continued, "I didn't approach her, she approached me."

"Most vultures usually do," Tony said under his breath.

Pepper ignored him. "She came to me with the idea. A novel featuring an inside look at the Avengers and their lives and most importantly, what they stand for."

"Sure," Tony said. "They all say that's what they're going to write about, but then what they actually produce is some drivel making us sound like either a laughingstock or that we're out to destroy the world, not save it."

"My, aren't you a bitter one," Pepper remarked.

He grimaced. "That just might be because of that witch of a reporter called me a 'Michael-Bay-wannabe-having a midlife crisis."

She burst out laughing. "I had nearly forgotten about that! Now I see why you're so worried. Well, that's what you get for giving an interview completely intoxicated, Tony."

He grunted. "All it's done is made me very, very wary of writers."

"Well, you don't need to be. Not with this one," Pepper said, looking through the file that was on her lap. "Normally, I would agree with you. But in this case I think we may have unintentionally stumbled upon a diamond in the rough. Her name is Rebecca Foulks. She's a fairly accomplished author, with three books under her belt so far." She looked up at him. "Have you heard of her?"

"Books? Reading? Who has time to read? I'm too busy creating things to read books. You've seen my schedule, when would I have any time to read?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You had a completely free day last Saturday."

"I was busy on Sunday."

"You played water polo with Rhodey all day on Sunday."

He was quiet for a moment before abruptly changing the subject. "Books are more up your alley, anyway. Have you read her work?"

"I hadn't," she admitted. "Until after our interview. And then I read one and was pretty impressed, to be honest." She smiled. "It was good Tony. And not just good, it had real _feeling_ in it too. It was well written and had a lot of heart. Carried a real positive message that stayed with me even after I finished it." She tapped the folder in her lap with her finger. "This is the kind of writing we need to promote the right kind of publicity."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Alright, I give up. You've obviously made your decision already anyway. Do you want me to talk to her?"

She smiled. "No need. I've already briefed her on what's going to happen next, and I'm sending a car to pick her up and take her to the facility next week."

"Next week?" he exclaimed. "So why did you even bother to ask me if you already had everything arranged?"

She stood up and patted his cheek before walking out of the room, calling out over her shoulder, "I have to let you feel like you have say in SOME things, don't I?"

As the door shut Tony Stark shook his head and wondered just what Pepper was getting him into.

~*~ To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**...Three Weeks Earlier...**

Pepper looked at the mountain of paperwork on her desk and wondered just how long it was going to take her to complete it all, and if she was going to be able to leave her office for the next month. Finance ledgers, new product advertisements, personnel file updates, publicity promotions; and that didn't even include all the conference calls and web meetings she had to attend with corporate managers. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. She loved her job, she really did. Knowing that Tony trusted her (more than he trusted himself) to run Stark Industries efficiently and profitably gave her a sense of confidence and pride that she wasn't sure she could live without. Sure, it was hard work. But it was rewarding work. She might not be a superhero, but she loved knowing she was doing her part to make a difference. It did feel slightly less rewarding however on days she was feeling particularly fatigued. Days like today. She rubbed her temple with her fingertips and decided that a coffee would do her a world of good.

No sooner than she decided to call out for one, her phone beeped with an incoming call. Seeing that it was her secretary, she answered with a smile. "Sylvia you must have read my mind."

"Your one o'clock appointment is here, Miss Potts," her secretary replied.

Pepper closed her eyes in tired resignation. "Alright Sylvia, you can send her in. Oh, and Sylvia? Get me a cup of coffee, please?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Pepper swiveled around in her chair and looked at the city sprawled out below her. Even though the new Avengers compound was now based in upstate New York, Tony had wanted to keep his company based in the city. And she was glad. She had been out to the new facility a few times. As much as Tony spoke about doing his own thing, he just couldn't seem to keep away from his teammates. And although she loved the new compound, to her the city would always be home.

At the sound of her door opening she turned back around in her chair as the newcomer walked in. She was an attractive girl; with brown hair falling to the

center of her back and dark brown eyes that flitted around the office interestedly. She was wearing a flower print dress, with black tights and sensible shoes, giving Pepper the impression that she was professional but still took the time to care for her appearance. The young woman didn't falter as she approached Pepper's desk, but Pepper could detect a slight wariness in her approach which indicated nervousness. Pepper took all this in without a word; silently assessing the newcomer. If this girl got what she wanted, her assessing her would be the least of her worries.

"It's very nice to meet you," the woman said with a cheerful smile. My name is Rebecca, we spoke on the phone."

Pepper introduced herself and gestured for her to have a seat in the chair across from her desk.

"I have to confess," Pepper began, "I don't usually accept offers to meet and discuss this sort of thing. It falls beyond my area of expertise. In fact, this would be the first time. But your phone call intrigued me. So I figured I would give you the benefit of the doubt and at least hear what you have to say."

"I can't tell you how much that means to me, Miss Potts," Rebecca said.

"Please, call me Pepper," she said warmly.

Sylvia walked in with her coffee, which Pepper accepted gratefully.

"Would you care for a cup, Rebecca?"

"No, thank you," she said. "But I would gladly take some tea if you have it."

As Sylvia left pepper blew on the hot liquid and took a small sip, hoping that the caffeine would reenergize her sooner rather than later. "So why don't you tell me a bit about your plans?"

Rebecca sat back in the chair and crossed her legs demurely. "I want to write a novel, Pepper. A novel about the Avengers."

Pepper nodded. She had gathered as much from their phone conversation. But what she really wanted to know, what she ineeded/i to know, was the motivation behind this. "Why approach me about it? Where do I come in?"

"There are tons of people writing things about the Avengers," Rebecca explained. "Especially since the incident in Sokovia six months ago. But they're only getting half the story. Aside from publicity interviews no one has really talked to them about their...well, their avenging. And when people have gaps in information, they tend to fill those gaps in with lies."

"Most people would say that it's easier to make something up rather than work for the truth," Pepper countered.

"I'm not most people," she replied.

Pepper smiled. "So you want to write a book featuring the Earth's mightiest heroes. Are you talking about a non-fiction book?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No. The newspapers have already done that sort of angle. I want to write an actual novel, featuring the Avengers. I want to show people the human side of the superhero's."

"Some of them aren't actually human, you know," Pepper quipped.

She nodded and smiled. "I know."

"Okay," Pepper continued, "So you want to write a piece about the Avengers, but you need a way to get into see them. And get to know them. At least, well enough for your purposes. And that's where I come in."

"And that's where you come in," Rebecca said. "I would need your help so I could do my research and talk to the team, so my work can be as accurate as possible. I would use false names, of course, for those who didn't want to reveal their true identities. I have a great respect for personal privacy."

"Yes, but why me?" Pepper asked bluntly. "I'm assuming you're here because of my involvement with Stark Industries and with Tony. But Iron Man isn't the actual leader of the Avengers. Captain America is, despite Tony's comments suggesting otherwise. Shouldn't he be the one you're talking to?"

"If it were that easy, I would be doing so right now. But do you know how hard it is to try and get in touch with Captain America?" She shook her head. "Everyone know that essentially you run Stark Industries. You are...the most accessible contact I could make."

 _"Not so accessible,_ thought Pepper. Through conversations she had with Sylvia and other employees, Rebecca had jumped through a lot of hoops to finally get in touch with her. She was nothing if not persistent. Pepper liked that. "You could just as easily write this novel without coming to see me; without coming to see **anybody**. You could just use what you already know, make up the rest. It's a free country after all. It would be a lot easier than going this route."

Rebecca looked distressed. "But Miss Potts...I mean, Pepper, sorry, doing it that way wouldn't be right. If I move forward with this project, I want to do it with the permission of the Avengers. I want them to know I'm not just some two-bit trashy tabloid writer. I'm on their side."

Pepper was impressed, although she didn't let it show. "Why?" she asked. It was the most important question of all. It was the question that everything else was hinged on."

Rebecca paused for a moment, gathering either the right words or the courage to continue, Pepper couldn't be sure. "I've heard all the news stories about the damage the Avengers are responsible for. The lives lost. But they're wrong. The world is focusing on the wrong thing. The Avengers are _heroes_. They have saved the world, and mankind, numerous times. Yes there were casualties, and yes they are not perfect, but they are still heroes, doing the best they can. And they deserve the world to know the truth about them. They don't deserve to be villianized, they deserve our respect. f I can do that for them, then I will have done what I set out to do."

Pepper was a bit taken aback by Rebecca's passionate speech. She agreed with her, of course, but in this day and age of nihilism and negativity, a person with such a positive outlook was like a breath of fresh air.

Sylvia came back in, carrying Rebecca's tea, giving Pepper a minute to decide how to respond.

"I believe you," she finally said. "I think that something like this could be exactly what the Avengers need to bring them back into the public in a positive way." She rolled her eyes. "Heaven knows there's been enough backlash and anger directed towards them in the last six months to last a lifetime."

"So...is that a yes?" Rebecca asked tentatively.

"It's a maybe," Pepper said. "Which is the best you'll get from me right now. I need some more time to think about it, and I'll have to contact Captain America and Tony as well, to get their input."

Rebecca took out a pen and scratched out some digits on a loose leaf of paper she had in her purse. "Here's my direct cell phone number," she said as she handed it to Pepper. "Take all the time you need. Just let me know when you've decided." She pulled a couple of books out of her purse and set them on her desk. "Here are my already published books," she said. "In case you want to check and see if I'm up to the task." She smiled shyly. "I hope you like them."

Pepper promised she would let her know when she had reached a decision, and they exchanged pleasant goodbyes. As Pepper watched her leave she felt slightly invigorated, and she didn't think it was from the coffee. There was just something about that girl that inspired confidence. Pepper was not naïve. Not in the slightest. But she couldn't help believing that she could be good for the Avengers.

As she began to line up some files to look through, she noticed the books that Rebecca had left her. Her mind kept going toward them with an ever growing sense of curiosity. "Oh what the hell," she grumbled to herself. "I haven't been productive yet this afternoon, might as well keep up the trend." She grabbed the book from the top of the small pile and settled back in her chair, deciding that she would read the first three chapters.

...

Two hours later she was still reading, her coffee long having grown cold. The book had started out simply; a typical fantasy story following the typical fantasy tropes. And yet...She was riveted. Entranced. She had underestimated this girl. There was talent here. And not just in terms of writing skill, but in terms of heart as well. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but she could tell that if anyone were to write a novel demonstrating the Avengers in a positive light, it was this girl.

...

After a few phone calls, she dialed the number on the paper that she was using as a temporary bookmark.

"Hello, is this Rebecca?" she asked.

"Ah, yes it is. And who is this?"

"Pepper Potts."

"Oh! Pepper! Hello, it's good to hear from you." Rebecca sounded bewildered as to why she was hearing from her so soon.

"Look, let's cut to the chase," Pepper said. "I started one of your books. Tumbled, it's called? And I loved it. Really loved it. And It's my opinion that you would be perfect for this new project you have in mind."

"Really?!" Rebecca exclaimed. "You mean it? Oh Pepper, thank you! Thank you so much! I won't let you down!"

Pepper smiled at the earnestness in the girls voice. "I know you won't."

"Wait, did you get in touch with Captain America?"

"I did. He still wants to talk with you before you get started on any actual writing, but he's completely fine with the idea. Captain America is a man who is completely aware of the importance of a good public image."

"What about Mr. Stark?"

"You just leave him to me."

"So...what happens next?" Rebecca asked.

"Well, you'll have to travel up to the new facility in the country and stay at the compound I imagine. You don't have to stay there too long, just as long as it takes you to gather all the information you may need. I'll have it arranged for you."

"When can I get started?" she asked eagerly.

"How soon can you get packed?"

~*~ To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Rebecca took the opportunity while at a stop sign to double check the directions she had hastily scribbled down from the last phone call with Pepper. She looked back up at the street sign. Mills Avenue. Perfect. She was right on track. According to her directions she was only about thirty miles away. She reached to her right and plucked a granola bar off her passenger seat that she had picked up at the last rest stop. She took a big bite and settled back into her seat and started driving again. It had been a long ride from her apartment in New Jersey to upstate New York; almost seven hours and she still had about twenty minutes to go. Pepper had actually offered to send a car to pick her up, but she had instantly declined. Freedom was the most important thing to her, and she wasn't ready to give it up at this point. At least not yet. Not until she could see for herself what she was getting herself into. Besides, she had enjoyed the drive a lot more than she had expected to. This part of the country was simply beautiful. The rugged rocky landscape of western Pennsylvania had changed into vast forests and gorgeous farmlands and fields. With each mile she put behind her she could feel her excitement grow. This project meant the world to her. More than she could convey to Pepper in just one interview and a few phone conversations. Since she had the very first inkling of the idea, she felt somehow that it was going to be one of the most important things she ever did. Thor. Captain America. Iron Man. Hawkeye. Black Widow. Hulk. Their names felt like jewels rolled in her mouth.

She turned the radio up as it wa playing some nonsensical new pop song. Caught up in the joy of the moment she slid off the band holding her ponytail in place and rolled down her window. The wind whipped her long hair behind her and she caught the scent of freshly cut grass in the air. _This is fate that brought me here_ , she thought suddenly; unexpectedly. _I was meant to do this_. She let out a laugh at the sudden burst of confidence that had overtaken her. It surprised her. Confidence had never been one of her strong points. It had been hard to believe Pepper when she had called her back so quickly and confirmed that she and the others wanted her to go ahead and come up to the facility to get a head start on her book. She had been hoping for the best when she had went in for the interview, but was desperately afraid of getting her hopes up. If she was completely honest with herself she would admit that she didn't think she had much of a shot. Despite her brave words during the meeting she felt somewhat inadequate in terms of her ability. Sure, she was an author. Had three books published already. But weren't there much more qualified authors to get the job done? More **famous** authors? In terms of public image she imagined that it would be a lot better if someone who was much more well known was pursuing this endeavor. She went into that interview with nothing but her heart and her belief in the goodness of the Avengers fueling her forward. _Well, that must have counted for something_ , she thought as she munched her snack. _It got me this far at least_! It had finally hit her, the magnitude of what she was doing, as she had loaded the rest of her things in the car earlier that morning and left before the sun came up. She felt complementary waves of nervousness and excitement the closer she got to the compound. She could hardly believe it was really happening. Meeting the Avengers. Her! She would never forget the way she felt the first time she had seen them fighting together. It had been news coverage in the alien attack in New York City. It was about a week after the incident that the media had released all the footage they had procured. She had seen them all seperately before, of course. Captain America had done plenty of interviews, and Tony Stark seemed to love himself so much he was on the air doing a press conference at least once a week. But she had never seen them together before that moment. That one shining moment where the world had needed them and they had risen to the challenge. And despite the wreckage and destruction in the background it had still been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. All working together, in harmonious unity. They moved together so fluidly, so synchronized. Without even hearing them speak she could tell how much they relied on each other, supported and helped one another. Almost like...a family. Or, at least, what she would imagine a family to be like. Her own experiance in that regard had been somewhat lacking.

The most recent world calamity had portrayed them in a much different light, unfortunately. Rebecca frowned as she remembered after the incident in Sokovia months ago the subsequent news reports of the dangers of the Avengers and speculation on whether the world really needed superheroes. She scowled. _Of course_ the world needed superheros! Even if they wern't charging out to save this planet all the time the amount of hope they inspired in the hearts of the people could and should never be forgotten or taken for granted.

After a few more hilly turns she came to a gravel road that had been indicated in Pepper's directions to be the driveway to the facility. She bit her lip nervously, consulted her directions one final time and made the turn. The burst of confidence slowly trickled away back into nervousness. She switched off the radio and popped a comforting cd in the player instead. She slowed her speed somewhat as she drove, turning her head this way an d that, trying to take everything in. Not that there was much to see. For almost two miles it was just fields on either side of the driveway. The field to the left of her was flanked by a massive forest. There were no other cars and no sign of any other people. Just when she figured that she had made a wrong turn after all and was about to turn around and start heading back toward the main road when she caught a glimpse of a building far off in the distance. She increased her speed a little as her pulse hammered in her throat. _This is it_ , she thought. _It all starts here_.

As she neared the facility she couldn't help but be impressed, even with her already high expectations. It was gorgeous; a sleek and modern testament to the ingenuity and heroism demonstrated by the Avengers. There was a big blue capital 'A' towards the top, and countless windows that were darkened for privacy. As she got closer, one of windows folded down to reveal a door large enough for a vehicle to fit through. She stopped, hesitating for a moment. _Do I just drive in?_ she thought wildly. _Or will I be shot on sight?_ As she wrestled with indescision a tall woman with dark hair walked out of the building towards her. She put her car in park and got out, figuring it would be more polite than just waiting in her car.

"Rebecca?" the woman asked when they were within a few yards of each other.

"Yes," she answered. "Thats me."

The woman shook her hand. "I'm Maria Hill. I've been expecting you."

"Oh good," Rebecca said with some relief. "Pepper told me I should ask for you." Pepper had explained that Maria would be her go-to person. She ran mostly everything in the facility.

Maria smiled. "Pepper called ahead and explained what was going on. I recognized your car so I thought I would come out and get you."

"Are you...okay with me being here?" she asked shyly. "I would hate to be a bother to anyone." The very last thing she wanted was to step on any toes.

Maria shook her head. "You're not a bother at all. In fact, someone really ought to have thought of doing something like this sooner. I know Steve and Tony said they were all for it, and to be honest..." she trailed off.

"Yes?" Rebecca prompted.

"Well, to be honest I think a little good publicity is exactly what we need right now," she admitted.

"I hope to do justice to all the good...wait." She said. "Did you say you **recognized** my **car**?

Maria grinned. "When Pepper told me you were coming, I took the liberty of pulling some information on you." She shrugged. "Nothing too deep, just some basic stuff." She handed her the folder she had in her hands.

Rebecca took if from her and flipped through it with trepidation. Some pictures of her were in there, as well as a picture of her vehicle and apartment as well as a page of generic information. It wasn't too troubling, as it wasn't as if she had anything to hide. But it was staggering to think about. She handed it back to her, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

Maria laughed softly. "Your face is pretty priceless right now, you know that?"

Rebecca smiled. "Ah, just wasn't expecting that, I guess."

"Well," Maria said as she led her into the building. "That's the first and probably best piece of advice I can give you about us." She pressed a button on the wall and the door closed behind them. "Expect the unexpected."

~*~ To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

As big as the building looked on the outside, it seemed even larger on the inside. Maria had asked if she wanted a tour of the compound and Rebecca had heartily agreed. The only stipulation was that she wasn't allowed to actually write details about the layout of the facility and the specifics about what she saw, which made complete sense to Rebecca. And it didn't faze her at all. As a writer, she absorbed everything she saw, felt, and experienced. So even if she couldn't use some information blatantly, it helped her form an idea of the big picture. She had left her suitcase in her car, not wanting to lug it around and figuring she could just pick it up later. And after about forty minutes of walking in and out of various labs, engineering departments, mess halls, and all the other nooks and crannies, she was pretty certain that her arm would have fell off about ten minutes into the tour. The place was so complex! Every person had a place and every thing had a function. Everyone worked like they were well oiled cogs in some grand machine. Everything was clean. Everything was efficient. And what impressed Rebecca the most was how much everyone seemed to love their job, each and every one of them. Especially Maria. She didn't actually stop to talk with each person they passed, (if she did, Rebecca expected they would be there well into the night) but she had a smile and a nod of the head for everyone. She could see the respect and admiration in people's eyes when they saw her. She had only just met her, but Rebecca could tell she was a firm yet kind person to work for.

As they turned down another corridor movement in the room to the right caught her eye. Almost the entire wall on that side had glass walls. She walked over to it to get a closer look and she saw that it overlooked a large training room. There were a few weight machines and treadmills, but most of the floor area was covered in mats. There were a number of people scattered throughout the room, some working out and others chatting idly. A flash of color snagged her attention and her eyes were drawn to one corner of the room where she saw a red haired woman in a dark jumpsuit sparring with another man. Dimly she realized that she was staring, but for some reason she couldn't tear her eyes away. She had taken some karate classes a few years back, so she had watched people spar before, but she couldn't remember it ever having looked like this, or being unable to look away. The woman's movements were graceful yet dangerous. She had a sort of predatorily grace that made Rebecca keenly aware of her own awkwardness. She made every move like a dance. Even from that distance she could see the way the material of her jumpsuit clung to her lean body like a second skin. Rebecca felt a vague and unfamiliar tightening in her stomach.

"We have a few different training and workout facilities throughout the compound," Maria said, startling Rebecca who was lost in a haze of red. She hadn't even heard her walk up next to her.

She pulled her eyes away from and room and looked at Maria. "Are they all this big?" she asked.

Maria nodded. "Yes. Physical training is a big part of our routine here so...yeah. More than one training room. All pretty huge. Captain's orders." She smiled. "Do you want to go in?" Rebecca was tired and more than a little hungry, and her answer should have been _no_ , so she was surprised when she heard a "Yes" come out of her mouth.

Maria's cell phone rang, and as she stepped aside to take the call Rebecca took the opportunity to turn her gaze back to the training room. It was a compulsion, she found she couldn't help herself. She couldn't remember a time when she had been more mesmerized. With a jolt she realized the woman had stopped sparring and was staring back at her. She was too far away for Rebecca to see the color of her eyes, but the intensity of her stare was clear to see, even from all the way across the room. She felt self-conscious all of a sudden, as if she was standing naked in front of crowd of people. She shivered, feeling goose bumps spring up on her arms despite the warmth of the hallway. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ she thought.

"I'm needed in another part of the building," Maria apologized, as she walked back over to Rebecca. "Are you okay here, or do you want to come with me?"

"Ah..." She had to fight to keep her eyes from traveling back to the training room. "I think maybe I'll stay here for a bit."

"Okay," Maria said. "First shift dinner is at six. Unless you're not hungry and you want to catch second shift dinner at eight." She pointed at her. "Do you remember where the mess hall is?"

"Six sounds great. And yes, I think so." She was pretty certain she did, anyway.

"Perfect. See you then."

Rebecca watched her walk away and wondered if maybe she should have went with her after all. Why was she suddenly so nervous? She chose to be here; fought tooth and nail for a chance to be here. So was she going to stand out in the hallway forever or was she going to go in there and get started?

She decided to go with option two.

She took a deep breath and walked through the door.

She figured it was a good sign when there were no explosions and no one yelling at her to get out. In fact, barely anyone even noticed she had walked in, which made her a little more relaxed. She breathed a dew deep calming breaths and looked around tentatively. She risked a glance to the far left corner and felt a pang of disappointment to see that the red haired woman was not looking her way at all, and had in fact gone back to sparring another opponent. And then she felt a burst of confusion as to why she would be disappointed. _Stop,_ she told herself firmly. _Don't think about that right now. Concentrate on the task at hand._

A loud 'CRACK' resounded from the other side of the room, and Rebecca decided to investigate.

A young woman was standing in the middle of the room, her hands at her sides as she concentrated on the wall some twenty feet away. Her brown hair was almost as long as hers was, falling down her back in waves. There was a paper target taped to the wall and she was staring at it, without blinking or showing any kind of facial expression at all. Rebecca walked towards her, increasing her pace a little when she didn't move, thinking she was maybe having some kind of fit and wondering if there was anything she could do to help her.

Suddenly the girl was a blur of motion as she moved her hands quickly as a flash of red light shot from her outstretched hand towards the target. It hit the target almost dead center, sending tiny red sparks into the air around it. She twirled and twisted her hands again, and two more bursts of light flew forward and hit the target in almost the same spot.

Rebecca had no idea what was going on or who this was, but she knew talent when she saw it. She ran the rest of the way over to the girl and exclaimed, "Wow! That was brilliant! You are so awesome, has anyone ever told you that?"

The girl looked severely startled and Rebecca was worried she might have been a little too enthusiastic when a man walked over, clapping slowly. He reached the two of them and patted the other girl on the shoulder. "Wanda, that was excellent. Your precision is really getting there. Soon you'll be able to hit exact targets dead center without even thinking about it."

She looked up at him proudly. "I still have a long way to go before I am even close to reaching your talent."

"Well," the man said as he rubbed his neck absentmindedly, "Nobody's perfect."

He looked up and saw Rebecca standing there. He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Wanda, who's your friend?"

Rebecca felt inclined to speak up, being that she was the one to barge in on their moment in the first place. "I'm Rebecca," she said. "Maria was just showing me around and I got caught up watching." She looked at the girl and smiled. "And we're not friends _yet,_ but I'm sure we will be, given time."

Wanda looked at the ground shyly.

The man nodded. "You must be the novelist they were talking about. I'm Clint." He pointed to the purple arrow on his shirt and grinned. "Otherwise known as Hawkeye."

Rebecca's eyes lit up. "I thought I recognized you! It's such a pleasure to meet you!"

"You sure are a flatterer, aren't you?" He laughed as she blushed. "It's okay, I'm sure this is all a bit overwhelming for you."

 _Overwhelming doesn't even begin to cover it,_ she thought. "A bit," she admitted.

"I know how you feel," he admitted. "Stick with me, kid, and I'll make sure you don't get in over your head."

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks...Clint. May I call you Clint? Or would Mr. Barton be better?"

He snorted. "It would get awfully tedious if you went around calling me Hawkeye all the time. And Mr. Barton makes me sound so _old_ doesn't it? Clint is fine. Unless you want to call me Sir Clint. I wouldn't object to that."

That got a smile even out of Wanda. She playfully punched his arm. "Stop teasing."

He grinned at her indulgently. "If you say so."

"So are you an Avenger too, Wanda?" She wondered if she had joined during the Sokovia incident. There hadn't been as much media footage from that as there was from the disaster in New York City.

Wanda nodded, without meeting her eyes. "They call me the Scarlet Witch."

"Well, I can see why!" Rebecca said. "You're really talented. What a cool name!" She knew she was gushing but found she couldn't stop. Something about this girl just seemed so wounded and it made Rebecca want to hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright."

Clint nudged Wanda. "Vision actually came up with the name, didn't he?"

Wanda blushed and didn't respond.

"Vision?" Rebecca asked, confused.

Clint waved his hand. "You'll meet him later. Probably at dinner, even though he doesn't need to eat he always sits with us. Must be the joy of my company that he cherishes. Wouldn't you agree, Wanda?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled away from him. "It was nice to meet you," she said softly to Rebecca before turning and walking away.

"You okay?" Clint asked, masking the concern in his voice.

"Yes," she replied from over her shoulder. "I just want to get a little rest before dinner."

Rebecca and Clint watched her go, and Rebecca once again felt the need to comfort her, even though it wasn't her place to do so.

"She'll be okay," Clint said, his voice so low she could barely hear him. "She's been through the ringer but she'll be okay."

Rebecca was at a loss for words. She wanted to ask what exactly had happened to Wanda but didn't want to overstep her boundaries.

"So how long are you going to be staying here?" Clint asked, turning back to Rebecca.

"At least a few weeks, I expect." she replied. "It all depends on how long it takes me to get the bulk of my research done."

He nodded. "Makes sense. Did you already unpack and stuff?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Maria was showing me around and I...erm...got distracted." She didn't want to confess the reason for her distraction just quite yet.

"Where's your stuff? Still in your car?"

She nodded again. "Yeah."

"Do you want some help carrying it up to your room?"

It really was wonderful how friendly he was being. "I'm sure I can manage, but I'd be grateful for the company."

"Okay then," he said with a smile. "Let's get going." He looked over Rebecca's shoulder and his eyes widened with pleasure. "Hey Nat, have you met our resident author?"

"No," said a woman behind her. "I can't say that I've had the pleasure."

Rebecca turned around and found herself face to face with the red-haired woman who had distracted her earlier.

And she was suddenly and inexplicably overwhelmed. It felt like a thousand bolts of lightening had gathered together to lift her right off the ground even though she logically knew she was standing still. All she could see was green; bright green, soft shining warm green, green with no end, everywhere, green that glowed and made her soul cry out, green, green, the woman's eyes were green. How could she have not seen those green eyes from across the room? She felt a slight tremor run through her and she began to seriously consider the possibility that she was allergic to redheads.

"I'm Rebecca," she said, finding that her voice in fact, still worked after all.

"I know who you are," the woman said. "I read your file."

 _Christ, had everyone read the file?!_ she thought. She rationally knew she should be saying something more, respond somehow, but all she could do was think about her voice and how it was lilting and husky, like a smooth smoky wine.

Clint just laughed. "Of course you did," he said. "Rebecca meet the Widow. Black Widow, that is."

If Rebecca was speechless before, she almost fainted now. **This** was the Black Widow? No wonder she had been so distracted by her. For fucks sake, she was one of the best international spies there was. The woman was a legend.

She looked amused, as if she could read every emotion on Rebecca's face.

"It's very nice to meet you," Rebecca said. She couldn't break eye contact with her. It was like being hypnotized.

"I don't know how nice it'll be for you," she said wryly. "I don't plan on giving you any exclusives."

Clint clicked his teeth at her. "So very rude, Natasha."

Rebecca tried not to show that she was hurt. "It's not my intention to pry," she said. It suddenly was very important that she made this woman understand this. "I just want the world to see you for the good people you really are. I want to..." _just get to know you, spend time with you_ She trailed off, not knowing quite how to continue.

"Well, I'm fine with the way things are now. So thanks, but no thanks," she said coldly. She looked back to Clint and said curtly, "See you at dinner, Barton." She walked away swiftly, without a look back.

Rebecca felt as if she had been hit by a bus.

"Sorry about that," Clint said awkwardly.

"She hates me. I've been here for two seconds and she already hates me," Rebecca said. She didn't know why this should hurt her so badly, but for some reason it did. It was like that woman had just walked up and punched a hole right through all her defenses.

"Nah, she doesn't hate you," Clint said as he patted her shoulder. "You just scare the hell out of her. Our Natasha doesn't scare easily. But when she does, she reacts a bit like a wounded animal. Don't worry, she'll come around."

"Scared?" she asked incredulously. "Of me? Of my story?"

His eyes twinkled merrily. "You'd be surprised at what can scare a person."

Rebecca was even more confused. And she was beginning to feel her fatigue and hunger. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

"Well," Clint said, "Let's go get your things, shall we?"

...

As they walked along the corridor Rebecca found Clint's easy going manner contagious and she began to feel more comfortable being around her and being herself. She hadn't forgotten the sting of Natasha's reaction to her, but she couldn't afford to worry about that right now.

"So what made you want to become an Avenger?" she asked him.

"Well, believe it or not I used to be a criminal."

"No!" She gasped, scandalized.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "But obviously I gave all that up when I joined the Avengers." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "It was Natasha who actually got me to go straight."

"Really?" she asked curiously. "How?"

He laughed. "Well, it's a bit of a long story. We used to be involved, way back in the day. "

She felt another pang, like an arrow through her heart.

"Both of us were mixed up in things we shouldn't have been," he continued. "That was a long time ago, though," he said seriously.

"Well, I'm glad you're here now," she said as she smiled at him.

He tapped her nose with his finger. "You and me both, kiddo."

They were almost to the garage when a tall and muscular blonde man ran down the opposite side of the hallway.

"Hey, Cap!" Clint called out. "Where's the fire?"

The man stopped in front of them and grinned. "No fire, Barton. But I did promise Sam I would get a quick workout in with him before dinner." He looked at Rebecca for a second before comprehension dawned on his face. "You must be..."

"Wait!" Clint interrupted. "Let me guess...you read her file?"

Rebecca inwardly groaned. She could tell that he was going to make this a joke with any and everyone he came across.

The other man looked confused. "Of course I read her file. Didn't you?"

"Nope!" Clint said, grinning.

The man shook his head before turning back to Rebecca. "Miss, it's very nice to meet you. Anything you may need feel free to let me know."

Rebecca didn't need any introductions to this man. She had seen enough of his interviews to instantly recognize Captain America. "Thank you Mr. Rogers," she said politely. "I'm very grateful to be allowed this opportunity."

Clint snickered under his breath.

They both looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry," he said with a smile and not sounding the least bit sorry. "It's just...Mr. Rogers, you know? That creepy guy that had that TV show about friendship and harmony?"

"It sounds like a quality program," Steve said seriously. "What's wrong with that?"

"Oh never mind," Clint said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

Rebecca giggled. She couldn't help it. Here were Captain America and Hawkeye and they were acting like...like **friends**. _But of course they're friends_ , she thought. _Did you think just because they are superheroes that they couldn't also be like regular people?_ But that's exactly what she had thought. It embarrassed her to think that she had never considered them from this angle...until now. Which made her feel slightly idiotic. Wasn't that the whole point of her being here? Seeing the Avengers as they really were, not just their heroic sides that they showed the world. It was one thing to consider the idea from afar but quite another thing to see it in person. They really **were** like other people. She had even forgotten for a few minutes who they were.

...

After bidding farewell to America's icon they tracked Rebecca's car down in the garage. Despite her protests, Clint took both of her bags. It felt rather like having a brother looking after her. She slipped the keys in the ignition so she could turn the light on and make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, when the cd player kicked on. She had forgotten that she didn't turn it off before shutting off her car when she arrived.

"What the hell were you listening to?" Clint asked as loud show tunes filled the empty garage.

She handed him the cd case, embarrassed.

"The Sound of Music?" he laughed. "Really?"

She kicked him. "Oh knock it off, it gives me confidence when I'm nervous."

He grinned at her. "Whatever you say, Becks."

She felt a sudden burst of warmth at the nickname.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's get you settled in."

...

About forty five minutes later she was back in her room and had most of her stuff unpacked. She hadn't brought a lot, mostly just clothes and toiletries and a few books. And notebooks which she hoped to have filled by the end of her stay here. Clint had left her after setting her suitcases down, telling her that he had a quick stop to make before dinner and that he would see her there. As grateful as she was for his kindness and his energy, she was also glad to have a few minutes to herself to gather all her thoughts together. It felt like so much had happened already, and she had only just arrived earlier that day. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, even more than she expected.

Well, everyone except for...

She laid across her bed and flung an arm across her eyes. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow. She had a reputation for being tough, but she seemed especially harsh to Rebecca, especially when compared to the kindness of the others she had met. Why did she react so curtly to her? Was it her mere presence that she deemed unwelcome? Or was it something else? _Maybe she just looked at me and didn't like what she saw_ , she thought morosely. She couldn't really blame her. She had stood there gaping at the woman like a fish out of water, looking at her the way a starving man looks at a feast. She groaned aloud. She must have looked like such a fool to her. _She probably thinks I'm the biggest moron on the planet._ She couldn't figure out why it bothered her so much. Why this woman's opinion mattered so much. For it did. She could already tell that it did. She thought of the way Natasha had stood there, as proud and regal as a lioness and felt herself blush at the thought of her. She found herself wanting Natasha to like her, to approve of her. And wasn't _that_ just the strangest thing ever.

Suddenly, in the silence and the solitude she got her answer. All the pieces clicked together. She finally understood what it was that she was feeling. It had been so long...so very long that she didn't recognize it right away.

It was pure, unadulterated desire.

~*~ To be continued


	5. Chapter 5: Interlude I

**Just wanted to take a quick moment to sincerely thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story so far! This is a piece that I am very excited and happy to work on, and it absolutely means the world to me that you guys like it so much. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You guys ROCK! :) Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I'm going to sprinkle short Interlude chapters throughout the story where we see things from Natasha's point of view. Hope you guys enjoy! :)**

Natasha stood at her window, her arms folded across her chest. The late afternoon sun cast golden dappled light across the grounds. There were people running laps outside, and for a moment she wished she was down there running with them. There was nothing quite like physical activity to clear the mind when it was clouded with worry or...doubt.

She closed her eyes. Why was she feeling this way? Like she was walking on unsteady ground, unsure if the next step would be solid or if it would plunge her into an abyss. She could pretend that she was tired. Or worried about Bruce. Or even that she was stressed over the last mission that Maria had sent her on. But despite showing the world numerous masks, if she had to be honest with one person, just **one** person, it would be herself. And she knew that the reason she was feeling so unnerved was because of that writer. That girl.

She gritted her teeth. Anytime anyone wanted to dig personal information out of her, the first immediate instinctive reaction was for her hackles to raise and be completely pissed off. Reporters, journalists, politicians...she had met them all, and considered most of them to be pretty poisonous. Always acting like they only wanted the truth, but what they were really looking for was a juicy story. But from what Maria had said about her, what she herself had read in her file...it didn't seem like this girl was that kind of person. And then she had felt that stare when she was sparring. She could feel the heat of the stare at her back before she even turned around. When she had approached her while she was talking with Clint, and the girl had turned and looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and for a brief moment she had the sensation that she was plunging, she was falling, she was drowning in that girls dark brown eyes. She snapped out of it a second or two later, but the incident had sent a jolt right straight through her to her core. And then she discovered that **this** was the writer, and it pissed her off. But not for the reasons she had anticipated. She thought she would feel threatened by the invasion of privacy, and the superiority that many people in the publishing industry seemed to demonstrate over everyone else. But this girl...didn't seem to be like _any_ writer she had ever met. Wasn't like _anyone_ she had ever met, come to think about it. All of her friends were fighters. She had been surrounded by subterfuge and violence since she was a young girl. And here was this person with this wide-eyed innocence and it just...baffled her. She could see that she had been through...something, though she wasn't sure what. She certainly didn't seem naïve however. A person could be innocent without being naïve. But that innocence...it got under her skin somehow, made her want to poke this girl, just to see how she would react. And her curtness to her **did** seem to evoke a reaction. The hurt in her eyes was clearly visible and it made Natasha feel slightly ashamed. She wanted to comfort her, to take her in her arms and run her hands through that glorious long hair. Tilt her head back and see if those lips were really as soft as they looked.

 _This is ridiculous_ , she told herself grimly. _You need to pull yourself together._ She had been with men before. And women. You never knew what sort of thing you were going to be getting into on any given mission. She enjoyed both sexes, honestly. But it had been a long time. A _very_ long time since she had felt such a spike of attraction for someone so quickly. But she couldn't deny the burst of sexual tension that had occurred when they were in close proximity. And never mind the way the girl looked at _her_. It was longing and heat and desire all melted together in those brown eyes. It was so obvious, she was surprised Barton hadn't said anything about it. When was the last time someone had looked at her like that? Looked at her and saw the woman; and not the assassin, the Avenger?

She smiled. It felt...nice.

The knock on her door shook her out of her reverie. "Come in, Barton," she said without turning around.

"How did you know it was me?" Clint said as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

She stifled a smile. "Because you sound like an elephant when you're walking down the hallway."

"Really?" he queried. "Huh."

She turned to face him, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

He ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Look, Nat...what was that about earlier?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you mean."

He crossed his arms. "Yes you do. I'm talking about the way you talked to Becks. What was that all about?"

"Becks, huh?" she asked wryly. "A nickname already? Is this another baby bird you've picked up? Another Wanda?"

"This isn't about me, Nat. It's about you. The way you acted back there...it isn't you."

"Are you sure?" she said. "I'm a cold person. " She smiled darkly. "Or haven't you read the tabloids?"

"Cut the shit, Natasha." he said. "I'm not talking about one of your bullshit personas. I'm talking about **you.** I know you. And you only act that way when you're scared. What are you afraid of?"

She frowned. "I'm not afraid of her. Nothing she could write could do any more damage than the things I've already done."

He smiled. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the way she was looking at you. And the way you were looking at her. Or did you think I didn't notice the huge gobs of mutual attraction you two were flinging all over the place?"

She inwardly groaned. Damn. He **had** noticed that. "So she thinks I'm hot. So what?"

He narrowed his eyes. "That wasn't just it, and you know it. That was more than just lust. And you are smart enough to know the difference between someone eying you up and someone that is looking at the whole package."

This was getting dangerously close to the thoughts that she was considering earlier. "That's not really any of your business."

He looked hurt. "Natasha, you're my best friend. Of course it's my business."

"Clint," she said softly. "I know you're worried about me. But I'm fine. Really."

He looked away. "Is this because of...Banner."

She was angry now. "This has NOTHING to do with Bruce. And you know it!"

"I actually don't know that, because you keep shutting me out!"

She turned back to the window. "I don't hold it against Bruce that he left. Or that he didn't take me with him. It was just something that wasn't meant to be." She looked back at him. "I've been over it for a long time now, Clint."

He walked up to her and put his arms around her. "I know you have, Nat. And I don't mean to imply that you're still pining for him."

"Good," she said with a chuckle. "Because I'm not."

"But I also know that you are way too hard on yourself," he continued. "And if you think you don't deserve to be happy because of things you've done in the past, you're sorely mistaken."

She was silent. She had no idea how to respond to that.

He started to walk away. "Look, all I'm saying is that you owe it to yourself to give yourself a chance."

"A chance to do what?"

He smiled. "A chance to be happy."

Without another word he walked out of her room and closed the door softly, leaving the Black Widow with thoughts that were even more tangled and confused than they were before.

~*~ To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for reading, guys! It means the world to me that you enjoy my story! Just one quick note before this next chapter begins; two of the quotes that Clint says to Rebecca on the rooftop are actually from the comic Hawkeye:Blindshot. Which I don't profess to own. ;) But they do work really well here, which is why I included them. Hope you enjoy!**

 ***Chapter Six***

Rebecca had gotten changed after unpacking her things, feeling a lot better after slipping into a comfortable sundress and brushing out the tangles from her hair. She felt completely free of the weariness of traveling, and was ready to start the evening with a cool and clear head. She looked at herself briefly in the mirror and sighed. Fatigue. That could explain a lot of things. She probably was just overwhelmed by the trip and the enormity of what she was going to be doing here and that was what caused her to be so overwhelmed by Natasha. Probably. It had been a long time since another woman had affected her like that. A _really_ long time. Not that she hadn't dated her fair share of women. And men. That was the beauty of being bisexual. But the last few relationships she had been in had been with guys. And they had failed so splendidly that she decided she needed to take a sabbatical from romantic relationships in general. It had been close to eight months since her last relationship had ended, and she had to admit that she was pretty content with the way her life was at present. Living on her own, on her own terms, doing work that meant the world to her; what else could a girl ask for, right? And so what if Natasha had made that much of an impact on her? It was probably just that she was starved for the sight of such a beautiful person. But then...Clint was attractive too, in his own way. And he hadn't affected her at all. None of the people she had met since coming here had. Only her. Just her. The more she talked herself out of what she thought she had felt, the quicker she could move on from her embarrassment. After all, it had been pretty obvious that Natasha wasn't affected in the same way by _her_ presence. And maybe if Natasha could see her acting like a normal human being, instead of a weirdo lovesick puppy, she would be more inclined to get to know her. Again, probably. _Not that it matters_ , she thought, as nonchalantly as she could. _It doesn't matter if she ever speaks to me. I really couldn't care less!_ Even in her head Rebecca could tell she sounded like some kind of hormonal teenager. Besides, it **did** matter. In terms of her book it mattered a great deal. She wanted to get everyone's point of view, and to do that she would have to be on good terms with her. So that's what she would concentrate on, when it came to the Black Widow. One or maybe two brief interviews, and only to deal with the facts. The simple facts. No emotional obligation whatsoever. If Natasha couldn't stand the sight of her...Rebecca swallowed. Well, she would just have to live with that. _I can't control how other people act or behave_ , she told herself for probably the hundredth time. _All I can control is my own behavior. If she wants to hate me? That's on her. It's not going to stop me from being nice to her in spite of that._

She smiled.

She already felt a lot better.

...

Despite her original misgivings, Rebecca found the mess hall with relative ease. She had only made one or two wrong turns before finally locating the room which was quite honestly a lot better than she had expected. Nevertheless, most of the hall was already pretty crowded when she walked in. It was one of the largest rooms in the facility, though the training facility as a close second.

She walked through the room around various tables and chairs, following her nose to the front of the room where the food was being prepared. It was set up cafeteria style, but quite nicer than any cafeteria she had ever been in before. _No doubt we have Mr. Stark to thank for the that_ , she thought wryly. There were a number of various options on the board across the top of the wall. Her hunger had abated for a short time when she had been with the others earlier, which she was pretty sure was due to nerves. But getting freshened up and allowing herself a few moments to relax calmed her nerves somewhat, and she was beginning to feel her hunger quite keenly. She ordered a pasta dish, with a small salad and roll. She eyes a desert rack on her way to the cashier and after debating whether it was worth it or not shrugged and thought, _ah, what the hell,_ and grabbed a small slice of red velvet cake. She stood for a moment after paying for her food, tray in hand, and while she surveyed the rest of the room had a brief moment of deja vu. It was very reminiscent of high school; that brief moment of indecision of who she should sit with and where. She didn't really know that many people yet. Should she just go and sit with random strangers and introduce herself? Would it seem aloof or standoffish if she sat by herself? She had a book in her purse, and was used to spending most of her meals by herself (living along would do that do you), reading as she ate.

As she was still deciding what to do, she saw a man stand up at one of the tables to the far right, waving at her to get her attention. It was Clint. Rebecca felt a warm bubble of happiness float up through her stomach. It looked like she wouldn't be eating alone after all. She walked over to his table, where he was sitting with Wanda and someone else she didn't know. She slid into the seat next to Wanda and across from Clint.

Clint's eyes widened as he saw her plate. "Hungry much?" he asked. "What, don't they feed you in New Jersey?"

"Speak for yourself," she said as she pointed at his own plate which was loaded down with two cheeseburgers and a generous helping of fries. "You look like you're getting ready to feed an army."

He grinned cheekily.

She rolled her eyes and ignored him, and leaned over to talk to Wanda when she got a good look at their third companion for the first time.

She blinked. He was very...unusual. He seemed to be wearing some kind of silver clothing, and while it looked like clothing it somehow _wasn't_. His complexion was red. Not tan, not black, but actually _red_ , and to top it all off there was a bright yellow gem in the center of his forehead. She had never seen anyone quite like him before. She tried to stop staring, knew she was being rude, but somehow couldn't stop.

Wanda followed her gaze and smiled. "This is Vision," she said as she looked at him proudly. "He is one of the newest members of the Avengers." She looked back at Rebecca somewhat shyly. "Like me."

Clint nodded, taking a huge bite of burger. "Yeah, Vision's pretty epic. He does well in a pinch."

Wanda raised her eyebrows. "He does _well_ in a pinch? That's all you have to say?"

Vision smiled softly. "Miss Maximoff does me too much credit. My abilities are eclipsed by many others. I am what I was made to be."

"Made to be?" Rebecca asked.

Vision turned his eyes to meet hers. "Yes. I am an android."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "Really? But that's...incredible!"

"I would be _dead_ if it wasn't for you," Wanda continued.

"I would love to hear that story!" Rebecca exclaimed. "I'm Rebecca, by the way."

He tilted his head toward her respectively. "I have heard of you, Miss Rebecca. Our resident novelist."

"Read her file like the rest of us, he means." Clint said under his breath.

She chose to ignore him. She asked, "Vision, how do you like being a part of this...team?" She had almost said family instead of team and figured it would have been weird for her to label their dynamics that way, despite her instincts that kept pushing those types of thoughts in her head.

He looked around the dining hall thoughtfully. "It is hard to describe, to be completely honest, since I have nothing to compare it to. But I do like being a part of something that works for the good of the world. It is...a noble purpose." He turned back to them. "And I count myself lucky to have already made such good friends."

Clint and Wanda both smiled, but Rebecca noticed a faint blush that crept along Wanda's neck.

Vision stood up. "If you would excuse me, I did promise some of the people in the engineering department that I would assist them with some recent trouble they have been having with equipment. It was a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to our future conversations. Mr. Barton, Miss Maximoff, I will see you both soon." His eyes lingered on Wanda for a brief moment before he turned and walked away.

"Well that was...interesting." Rebecca said.

Clint laughed. "Interesting is definitely a good word to describe most of what goes on around here, actually. Starting to regret that you came?"

"Are you kidding?" Rebecca asked. "I couldn't be happier to be here."

Wanda shook her head. "Just ignore him. He is teasing you."

Rebecca looked thoughtful. "Soooo...what you're saying is that the first rule for life here is to ignore Clint?"

Wanda grinned. "You're a fast learner."

"Ah, Natasha could have told you that in the first five minutes of you getting here." He looked up. "Speak of the devil."

Rebecca felt her heartbeat quicken with anticipation. She made a promise to herself that she would be cool and calm the next time her and the Black Widow crossed paths, which sounded good in her head, but in reality just went to complete shit. Natasha walked around the table and took the empty seat next to Clint. She tapped him playfully with her fist before looking at Rebecca. She ran her eyes over her and then stopped, did a double take, and ran her eyes over her again, but slower this time, silently assessing her.

She could feel that gaze like a bright white heat lamp. She wondered if she had made the right choice in changing into this dress. Did it look ridiculous on her? Should she have just worn jeans and a t-shirt instead? Her body felt hot...and tingly. She felt like she was moments away from jumping out of her own skin. Rebecca once more had the illusion of that she was drowning in the other woman's eyes and why in the hell had she never realized how beautiful a color green was before? She couldn't help it, despite the fact that this woman obviously couldn't stand her, something about being in her presence just made her ridiculously happy.

All previous thoughts about just playing it cool went right out the window apparently, since she had no choice over the fact that she smiled like a buffoon every time she was around her. So she decided to just go with it. "Miss Romanoff, it's nice to see you again."

To her profound surprise she was rewarded with a smile in return. "Likewise. And...call me Natasha."

Before she could respond Natasha had turned to Wanda. "I hear you did an excellent job today. I didn't get a chance to watch you."

She shrugged. "I was okay. Didn't feel as if I had made any improvements."

Natasha nudged Clint. "This asshole may be a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. He said you hit the target accurately almost seventy percent of the time. That's at least a thirteen percent increase from last week."

"Not that I have any idea what I'm talking about," interjected Rebecca, "But it seemed like you really knew what you were doing. It was pretty incredible to watch actually. What exactly were you practicing?"

"Wanda has a fairly good control over her gift," Clint said. "She's very talented. But where she excels in power she lacks in precision. She's used to hitting...somewhat larger targets. Once she has that balance of power and precision there'll be no stopping her."

"Well, I have my teacher to mostly thank for that," Wanda said.

Clint favored her with a genuine smile. "Nope. I can't take the credit for that. That's all you, chickadee."

"Will you be practicing at the same place tomorrow?" Rebecca asked her.

She nodded. "Should be, unless they change something on me."

"I'd like to come by and watch you some more, and maybe we could talk a bit after, if that's okay with you?"

Wanda's eyes brightened. "That would be nice. To have some company." She gestured across the table. "Clint is leaving tonight, so I will not be seeing him for a day or two."

Rebecca turned to him. "You're leaving?"

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "Have to head back into the city to take care of something for Maria. No worries, I should be back by Thursday at the latest."

"Spy stuff, you know," Natasha said. "Pretty much business as usual."

Clint looked at her and grinned. "They've got me meeting up with Matt again. Which should make for an entertaining mission."

"They still have you running missions and things?" Rebecca asked. "I figured that was all done away with when Shield disbanded." Not that she knew a lot pertaining to that topic. The news coverage had been pretty sparse when it was going on.

Natasha shook her head. "Just because Shield isn't back up and running doesn't mean that certain things can be ignored. Maria sends the least conspicuous of us," she gestured to herself and Clint. "to take care of things of a...more delicate nature."

Rebecca could tell there was more going on under the surface that they were admitting. A lot more. But it didn't bother her. She had only been there one day, it would be ludicrous to expect them to trust her so quickly. But despite the logic of that assumption, she couldn't help but feel very comfortable around these people. Even though it didn't make any bit of sense she already inherently trusted these people. Even Natasha. _Especially_ Natasha. Whatever that meant. She tried not to think about it too hard.

...

After they had finished eating, Clint said there was something he wanted Rebecca to see. One last part of the tour that he was certain Maria had left out. Wanda, being an early riser, left after dinner to spend a little time in her room before going to sleep. Natasha left them as well, saying she needed to go over some files with Maria, which disappointed Rebecca a lot more than she was willing to admit.

She let Clint lead her out of the mess hall and through a few corridors and hallways that she hadn't been down before. Most of what she had seen was on the other parts of the facility. She looked around curiously and Clint explained that they were in the part of the compound that was set aside specifically for the Avengers to use. They passed through more private rooms reserved for working out, sleeping, and even a private dining room. He took her in the lounge, which was currently empty, and she marveled at the comfort of it all; there were multiple couches, chairs, as well as a huge television on the wall.

"You guys have all your own places to go?" Rebecca asked bewilderedly. "Why do you train and eat with everyone else then?"

Clint shrugged. "Tony designed this place. He wanted us all be together like we were in the original compound. It was very...low key in the old place. There were so few of us. And we did everything together." He looked around. "But...we're not all here, at least not now. Thor is back in Asgard, Bruce is...wherever Bruce is. Nat and I are always being shipped off to God knows where on missions, and Sam and Steve are here most of the time, but they have their own things going on too." He sighed. "Tony isn't even as here as much as he used to be. This part of the facility is great, and it's nice to have the privacy, but it can get a little...lonely sometimes."

She looked around and could see how it could be so.

He turned and grinned at her. "So feel free to come up here whenever you like."

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nope. Come on, I was saving the best for last."

...

After another elevator trip and a short flight of stairs Clint opened a door and Rebecca found herself on the roof of the facility. The building was a lot taller than it had originally seemed when she had first arrived. She could see the surrounding forests and meadows that surrounded the property. It felt like being in another world altogether. A more peaceful world. A world that made sense. The stars were just coming out, and the sky was a beautiful shade of light blue and periwinkle. She laughed delightedly and spun around.

Clint chuckled. "You like it?"

"Like it? I love it! Does everyone know about this?"

He shook his head. "Just us. We train up here a lot, sometimes just hang out up here. The Avengers, I mean. And now you."

"Can I come up here whenever I want?" She was already imagining how nice it would be to write out here.

Clint nodded. "Absolutely."

He dragged two chairs over that were stacked on the inside of the doorway and they both sat and watched the sky darken. He told her about his childhood, growing up in foster homes and orphanages, and about how he and his brother eventually ran away to join the circus, which was where he learned and perfected his skill with the bow. She didn't offer any of her own past, and he didn't pry, which she greatly appreciated. She just didn't quite feel ready to bare herself in that way. Even to someone like Clint, who was fast becoming like a brother or father figure to her.

"What made you want to become an Avenger?" she asked softly. She had asked him before, but he hadn't answered her, not really.

He was quiet for a moment. "Let me tell you something about superheroes. Sometimes a robber or a super villain takes away the ones you love, setting you on the path to becoming a hero. Other times, it's a lot more simple. Like watching someone you DON'T want to grow up and be like."

She nodded. That, she could understand. So many times she had been faced with toxic people and toxic relationships, which only proved to her that the only way to live was through kindness and compassion. She never wanted to be the kind of person that lived off of confrontation and causing others pain. If she could change the lives of others in a positive way; whether through her words and books, or through her actions, she would consider it a life worth living. She told him as such, and he ruffled her hair playfully.

"Kiddo, you might not be an Avenger, but it definitely feels like you belong here."

She could have floated off the top of the building, she felt so happy, so light, so _free_. "I haven't even met you all yet," she started, "but I can already tell how close you all are. Like a family. It's so...beautiful."

Clint looked up at the sky. "They say you don't get to pick your family. But in rare cases, the weirdest things can happen. Your family chooses you. A moment that changes everything. And you know you'll never be alone again. That was definitely the way it was for me, when I joined the team."

"And what about..." Rebecca hesitated. "What about Natasha? Does she feel the same way?"

"That we're family? Oh yeah, I expect so."

"What about...significant others? Does having them...make it difficult?"

He shook his head. "Well, I have a wife and two kids, so I can tell you from personal experience that it doesn't make it difficult at all. It's just a different type of bond."

"But what about...Natasha? Does she have...you know, anyone?" She couldn't even believe she was asking this. She felt like she was some kind of awkward high schooler. But it kept coming out, like word vomit.

"Who, Nat?" Clint asked. "Why all the questions about Widow?"

She snapped her gaze back to the sky, knowing that she had to be as bright red as Vision at that moment. "No reason. Just curious."

He hid a smile. "Sure kiddo. Whatever you say."

After about another half hour he got up and told her he was going to get to bed a bit early, considering how early he was leaving in the morning. After assuring him that she would be able to find her way back by herself, she watched him walk away and close the door that led to the roof.

It was just her and the stars.

She sighed happily and raised her eyes to the heavens again, listening to the quiet sounds of the forest in the distance. An hour passed. And then another. A plethora of ideas were running through her head at breakneck speed. She had only been there one day, but it already felt as if she understood so much. And there was still so much she wanted to learn! Despite how crazy it sounded, she really did feel like she belonged here. Just like Clint had said. She had so many things she wanted to write, wanted to think about. _Maybe I'll type up a chapter or two when I get back to my room_ , she thought drowsily. _And I'll send it to Pepper's email, just as a courtesy, to see what she thinks._ She respected the woman and would value her input and opinion.

She stood up and brushed off her dress, intending to head back and get to work, despite the late hour.

And that was when it hit her.

It could have been the combination of elation, nervousness, and excitement that had been thrumming through her all day.

It could have been the fact that she was a bit overtired.

It could have even been the fact that she felt relaxed and safe here; two things that she hadn't felt for a long time.

But she never knew what caused them, only that when they came they hit her like a freight train.

A panic attack.

She raised a hand to her chest and pressed, in an attempt to calm her pounding heart. Her breath came in short rasps as it felt like she had the weight of the world pressed against her lungs. White spots danced along the edge of her vision, and with a slight moan she sat back down on her chair, hard, knowing that if she didn't sit herself down she would fall over. She covered her head into with her hands, curling herself into as small a space as possible. Not that it would help. Not that anything would help. She had had them countless times and while she could never predict when or where she would have them, the one thing she could guarantee was the fear of her body being out of her control and the overwhelming feeling of shame that possessed her because of them. She hated being so weak. _I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay,_ she kept saying to herself, over and over, hoping that the more she thought it the more likely it was to be true. The only thing she could be thankful for was that no one was around to see her like this.

Dimly she was aware of the door opening behind her. _Shit. Please don't let that be Clint. Or...anyone. Please just go away,_ she willed whoever it was to just turn back and not notice her.

To her absolute horror she heard a familiar voice call out her name in the darkness.

It was Natasha.

~*~ To be continued


	7. Chapter 7: Interlude II

Natasha was quite an accomplished liar. It wasn't a skill she was particularly proud of, but when you grew up being trained as an assassin and spy it was just something that came with the territory. But it _did_ certainly come in handy when she wanted to avoid certain situations.

Like earlier tonight.

She absolutely didn't have to speak with Maria about anything. But the thought of spending the evening with Clint and Rebecca was not something she was eager to do. She knew Clint well enough to know he was probably taking Rebecca up to the roof, which was fine. She and he trained up there quite often, and he took Wanda up there a lot as well. She could tell just from his manner at dinner that he thought very highly of this new girl and already considered her to be a part of the group. And she could see why. The girl seemed very good natured, easy to get along with. It was difficult for Natasha to trust people in the best of circumstances. And yet the brief times in which she was around Rebecca she almost _wanted_ her walls to come down so she could talk to her freely. It somehow seemed desperately important that this girl knew her, understood her. She couldn't ever remember feeling that way before. And what she really just could _not_ understand, was why this new girl was affecting her so strongly, after so short a time period.

She was confused. And Natasha did not like being confused.

The attraction aspect of it, in and of itself, was not what was confusing her. She had been attracted to women before, been _with_ women before, so it wasn't as if it was her first rodeo. Rather it was the _strength_ of it that had her on edge. When she walked into the mess hall and saw Rebecca again she felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath her. Sitting there in that cute little dress, wide eyed and earnest, her hair tumbling down her back in brown waves; for a moment all she could think of doing was throwing the girl over her shoulder, willing or not, taking her back to her room, and having her way with her until she was screaming her name. She could see Rebecca's pulse in her neck beating wildly as she sat there, demurely as a cat, so she could _tell_ that she was feeling _something_. So how in the hell was she sitting there so calmly? She wanted to lean over the table and shake her, grab her by her hips and pull her in against her body and demand to know what she was thinking, to jolt her to her core. She wanted to take this girls sweet and controlled exterior and watch it unfurl right before her eyes into pure emotion and passion.

Which was very strange.

She expected her to be dismissive, or even to ignore her. After the way she treated her earlier in the day she wouldn't have blamed her. Instead Rebecca had looked at her and smiled. Smiled like she had been sitting there waiting just for her. Smiled like she was the only person in the room. The desire that had been curling in Natasha's stomach spiked and then mellowed into a sort of warm tenderness.

Which was also very strange.

 _This whole thing is fucking strange,_ she scowled to herself as she stepped out of the building. She figured a walk would do her some good, and she loved the grounds this time of day. Most people were either eating dinner or relaxing, so there weren't many people out and about to bother her. She preferred solitude to company, especially if she had something on her mind. It was a beautiful night. The stars were out, and the steady buzzing of the cicadas lulled her frayed nerves. She folded her arms across her chest as she walked, the grass from along the path swishing softly against her legs. The tension slowly drained from her body as she walked the trails around the facility. She just couldn't for the life of her figure out why this was such a big deal. She liked Rebecca, and Rebecca obviously liked her. So what was the problem? If it was just a simple case of attraction why didn't she just breach the gap between them and pull her in? Natasha knew she was a natural born flirt. It would be easy to maneuver Rebecca right where she wanted her. Which was in her bed. She sighed. It just wasn't as simple as that. This wasn't just some random person she met on the street. This was someone who potentially could either damage or raise the level of notoriety that surrounded the Avengers. Was this someone she really needed to be getting involved with? What if things...went badly? Would this girl be the kind of person to damage her and the others reputation further by slandering them in her book? Was this worth the risk?

She gritted her teeth. She knew she wasn't being completely honest with herself. And her one rule that she carried with her throughout her entire adult life, was that if she couldn't be honest with the people around her, she would at least be honest with herself. Always. There was something else keeping her from getting involved. Something that was keeping her from making a move on this girl, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling completely exhausted all of a sudden. It didn't matter, one way or the other. This girl would only be here for a few short weeks. All she had to do was deal with this...emotional confusion until she was gone.

But despite her best attempt to convince herself otherwise, she had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

...

It was much darker by the time she had circled the exterior of the facility and made her way back to the front door. Clint was there, leaning up against the wall, a backpack on the ground next to him. He had an arm behind his head and looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

He gave her a thumbs-up when he saw her. "Wanted to say goodbye before I headed out." He was wearing a dark gray t-shirt and jeans, and his sunglasses, despite the late hour.

Natasha smiled indulgently and walked up to him. "You know what they say about people who wear sunglasses at night, right?"

"Yeah. And I'm pretty comfortable with myself enough to know that while I am definitely not blind, I could be considered an asshole."

She rolled her eyes. "Did Maria give you any idea what you're heading into this time?"

He gave her a one shouldered shrug. "Not too much. Just some punk anarchist gang that got their hands on some SHIELD intel. Oh, excuse me, some EX SHIELD intel."

She frowned. "I thought everything was already out in the open."

Clint winked. "When _you_ exposed everything you mean?" His face grew more serious. "I guess when you're an organization as big as SHIELD, the secrets run pretty deep. Either way, she wants it stamped out."

Natasha looked off into the forest in the distance, her expression troubled. "I suppose."

"Hey," Clint said. "It's only going to be for a day or two. And I'll be with Matt, which should be loads of fun."

She tried to hide a smile. "I shudder to think of all the trouble you and Murdock could potentially get into."

He grinned. "And _that's_ what makes it fun!"

She looked up towards the top part of the building. "So did you tuck your new little birdie in or what?"

"Wanda? She went to sleep ages ago."

She could tell when he was making fun of her. "That's not who I meant, and you know it."

"Oh!" He feigned surprise. "You must mean Becks. No, I didn't tuck her in. Thought I'd maybe leave that for you to do?"

She opened her mouth in protest.

He continued before she could say anything. "She's still up on the roof. She seems to really like it up there."

"Hmmm," Natasha said noncommittally.

"Are you going to go talk to her?" Clint prompted.

She turned away. "No."

Now it was Clint's turn to frown. "Wow. Never thought I'd see the day when the nefarious Widow turned coward."

She turned so fast she was a blur, slamming her fist into the wall next to his head. "I am **not** a coward, Barton!"

"Well, good. Now I have your attention," he said drily. "Listen, I don't know what's gotten into you, or why this girl has you freaked out so badly, but she obviously likes you, so you better grow some balls and deal with it."

"You don't know that."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "She asked about your situation."

Her heart skipped a beat. "She did?"

"Yeah, she did. In her own innocent, trying-to-be-slick sort of way." He laughed. "I could see right through her. Christ, she is friends with one spy and has a crush on another spy, the poor girl doesn't stand a chance."

She crossed her arms and asked quietly, "Do you like her Clint? I mean, really. She's only been here one day."

"Yes," he said firmly. "I do. I think she's a genuinely good person, a real sweetheart. I like being around her, she's refreshing. I'm sure you'd feel the same way...if you'd give her a chance."

 _Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of,_ she thought.

"Nat," he said. "I'm not trying to throw you at her. If you don't like her, that's fine. I'm just saying you ought to give her a chance. She's already fitting in here pretty nicely." He rubbed her arms. "So...will you go talk to her?"

"We'll see," she hedged.

He laughed. "You're impossible, you know that?"

She grinned back. "Absolutely."

He hugged her to him and she wrapped her arms around him. He was still one of the only people on the planet that she felt one hundred percent comfortable around. They had been through so much together. Her best friend. She'd be lost without him.

"Be safe, " she told him. "Love you."

"Love you more. And I will. Be careful, I mean. Always am."

She snorted. "Bullshit."

He kissed her forehead. "You would know."

She patted his shoulder. "See you in a few, Clint."

He gave her a mock salute before turning away from her, heading towards the main road.

She watched him leave before heading back into the facility.

...

The living room and kitchen were silent when she stepped inside. The others must have already been asleep, the same as Wanda. Not that Natasha minded. She had always been a bit of a night owl. She figured she would make some tea, maybe get some reading in before she went to bed herself. She stood at the counter, looking at the row of mugs drying on the rack. She wondered if Rebecca was still on the roof. Dammit. She rubbed her eyes. She had a feeling that she wasn't going to be able to relax while knowing she was still up there. Clint was right. She was acting completely childish about the whole thing, which was unlike her. But maybe Rebecca _wasn'_ t still up there. She could just take a peek and see, that wouldn't do any harm, right? If she had already left then she could get on with her nighttime solitude. And if she was still there...well, she would figure it out.

She climbed the stairs to the roof and opened the door, wincing at the loud creak it made as it opened. The light was off, so at first she figured that she had perhaps went to bed after all. She pushed down the small twang of disappointment that flickered through her.

But then she saw a figure huddled over in a chair in the middle of the roof. Was that her? What was she doing? She called out Rebecca's name, and the girl responded by raising her head slightly, but still didn't turn around. Was she...crying? For a moment she thought about retreating, after all what if she didn't want to be disturbed? But some other instinct told her there was something wrong and there was no way she was leaving until she knew what it was.

She closed the door behind her softly, and walked toward the chair soundlessly; approaching her the way you would a wounded or scared animal. She stopped when she was about two feet away. The girl was completely still, almost as if she was holding her breath. She could see her back was curled over, her head in her hands and her hair covering her face.

"Are you alright?" Natasha asked her.

"Yeah," Rebecca said softly, her voice slightly muffled. "Just a panic attack. It'll pass soon enough."

She seemed resigned about it, like it was something that she was used to and was out of her control. "Do you have them often?" Natasha asked.

Rebecca paused for a moment before letting out a shaky breath in admission. "Yeah."

Having had panic attacks in the past, Natasha knew how debilitating they could be.

Before she could say anything though Rebecca said quietly "I'm sorry."

"What could you possibly be sorry about?" Natasha asked incredulously.

Rebecca kept her head down. "For you seeing me like this. For being...weak. Out of everyone here to see me like this..." She sounded like she was getting choked up. "I didn't want it to be you."

There were many ways that Natasha could have taken that, if she wanted to overanalyze things. But she instead went with her instincts and decided she could worry about the rest later. She knelt down next to the chair and pulled her against her chest. She could feel Rebecca's heart beating madly against her breast, like her ribs held a bird trying to escape. After a moment of her remaining stiff in her arms she felt Rebecca relax into her. She knew there were a thousand and one things she could say to reassure her, to try and calm her down. But she knew that when she was feeling out of control and scared, the only thing she wanted was the reassurance that she was not alone.

"It's okay," Natasha murmured softly. "It's okay. I'm here."

It should have been weird or uncomfortable even, to be this close to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. But to Natasha's complete and utter surprise, it _didn't_ feel weird. It felt oddly comforting, as if this was something that had been a long time coming. It felt like coming home. She ran her hand slowly and reassuringly across the other woman's back as her lips brushed her hair. She smelled like roses and fresh linen. She felt Rebecca's arm slip around her waist, pulling her even closer. Natasha closed her eyes.

They sat like that for minutes, although to Natasha it felt like ages. She couldn't remember a time when this woman _had_ n' _t_ been in her arms. Rebecca's breathing gradually relaxed and she slowly pulled away. She looked at Natasha with those soft, limpid, brown eyes and Natasha swore she was going to die right then and there if she didn't kiss this girl immediately.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said again.

"Don't start that again," Natasha said firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"But," Rebecca said "You could have been doing something else, _anything_ else, and instead you were stuck here with me just because I'm..."

"Having panic attacks don't make you weak," Natasha said, cutting her off. "It's just your body's way of dealing with stress. How long has this been going on?"

Rebecca blinked. "About six months or so, I guess."

"Have you...seen a doctor about it?"

She shook her head. "I'm not really good with Doctors. I'd rather just handle it myself." She grinned bashfully. "Sounds pretty dumb, huh?"

Natasha bit back a smile. It didn't sound stupid, it sounded familiar. How many times had she herself turned away help just out of pure stubbornness to solve something by herself. Stubborn asses, the both of them. Maybe they had more in common than she thought. "Not dumb," she responded. "I can understand where you're coming from."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear."Well, thank you. I...I really appreciate you staying with me through it. I usually just muster through them by myself. But you...made it a lot easier to breathe normally again."

Natasha smiled. "I'm glad I was able to help."

Rebecca blushed and looked down.

"Ah," Natasha asked. "Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?"

She looked back up at her. "Oh, yes please."

Natasha patted her knee. "Alright. Just wait here. I've got just the thing to calm your nerves."

...

She returned about fifteen minutes later with two steaming mugs. She handed her a purple one with a darker purple 'H' on it. When Rebecca saw it she let out a delighted laugh. "Let me guess...this is Clint's mug, right?"

Natasha winked. "How did you guess?"

They shared a chuckle over that before she pulled the other chair back over so that it was next to hers. She sat down and watched her take a sip.

Rebecca sighed happily. "Oh god, this is so good. I love tea."

Natasha smiled. "Me too. There is nothing I love more than a nice cup of tea on the rooftop under the stars." She looked back up at the sky. It was well into the night, and the sky was completely dark, the stars glistening like diamonds strewn across a piece of black velvet.

Rebecca bit her lip. "Well, I hope the next time we do this it will be under less...stressful circumstances?"

The both laughed. "Well, one can only hope," Natasha said.

"So," Rebecca asked tentatively. "Will there be a next time?"

Natasha looked at her, meeting her gaze steadily. "I think that's a very good possibility."

Despite the late hour, neither of them seemed willing to go back into the compound. They say in their chairs, side by side, for over an hour, slowly drinking their tea and talking about many things; everything and nothing. Rebecca was careful to not ask any intrusive questions, to which Natasha was most grateful. Their conversation felt almost like a dance; each one giving little tidbits of information about themselves to the other. She couldn't remember a time she felt more comfortable with another person, aside from Clint. It was funny. As they sat together, all the fears, worries, and insecurities from before seemed to not be as important as they had earlier. They were still there in the background, waiting to attack her mind the next time she was alone, but for the time being she just wallowed in the enjoyment of Rebecca's company.

After watching her yawn for the third time, Natasha suggested they head back in.

Rebecca's face fell. "I wish this night didn't have to end."

A flicker of warmth spread through her heart. _It doesn't have to end,_ she thought. _I could take you to my room right now and drown in you and we could make this night last forever._ She forced those thoughts back down. "Neither do I," she said. "But it is getting pretty late, and I have quite a few training sessions to run with Steve tomorrow."

Rebecca nodded. "I understand."

Natasha stood up, stretching away the fatigue from her limbs. "C'mon," she said. "I'll walk you back to your room."

Rebecca had protested of course, and Natasha had of course, insisted. It seemed like the chivalrous thing to do, but in actuality she just wanted to make the time with her last a little while longer. They both walked side by side, silently, each one lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached her door, Rebecca turned and thanked her once more. "I really appreciate what you did for me tonight," she said. "I wish there was something I could do to...repay you."

Either it was a lot later than she thought, or her thoughts were a lot more lewd than usual, because that sounded dangerously close to an invitation to Natasha. Normally she would have responded to such a statement with a bold flirtatious suggestion, but she found herself too befuddled to respond like she usually would. The Black Widow, tongue-tied? Preposterous. She ought to kiss her right then and there. Press her up against the door of her room and take possession of her. _That's just great, Romanoff,_ she thought. _Go ahead and traumatize the girl even further_. Instead she took Rebecca's hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry about it," she heard herself say, despite her inner voice which threatened ritualistic suicide if she didn't kiss this damn girl soon.

"Well, goodnight then...Natasha," Rebecca said with a smile as she stepped into her room. "I'll see you soon?"

Natasha said goodnight and walked swiftly back to her quarters. _Oh you can count on it_ , she thought to herself.

~*~ To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

"I have to admit that I'm impressed," Pepper said. "You've only been there a few days but you seem to have gotten a good feel for the place."

"It _does_ seem like I've been here for years," Rebecca admitted. "It's sort of an incredible feeling, to be honest."

Pepper smiled warmly. "I can tell. It seems like you fit right in already. I love what you've sent me so far. And I'm really excited to read more."

Rebecca beamed. "I'm so glad you like it!"

She was sitting in bed, computer in her lap, still in the shorts and tank top she had worn to bed the previous night, with her hair still slightly mussed from sleep. Logically she knew she should have tidied herself up a bit first before skyping Pepper Potts, but she was too excited to wait. She had sent her the first few chapters from her book the night before, and when Pepper had sent her a message in reply early this morning she knew she had to contact her right away to see what she had thought. She might come across as over-eager, but she figured she could live with that. She had tossed and turned throughout the night, sleeping fitfully, partially because she was worried what the Stark Industries CEO would think of her project so far. Granted, Pepper wasn't her editor. She still had yet to mail the material to him, and he was the one she really had to worry about impressing. But Pepper had made such an impression on Rebecca during their initial interview and subsequent phone conversations. She found that she honestly just valued her opinion, and was eager to see what she thought of her writing.

"It's still only scratching the surface of what I want to do," Rebecca continued. "I have a lot farther to go with all of it, of course."

"Still," said Pepper. "I'd say you're off to a great start."

It had been five days since her panic attack on the roof. Clint still hadn't returned from his mission. But even though she missed him, she found her days so full she barely had time to ruminate on his absence. Her security clearance allowed her access to most of the compound, and there was so much to see, and so very much to do. She had spoken with Maria Hill at great length about the overall plans for rebuilding SHIELD, and her hopes for the Avenger's part in all of it. She spent a lot of time also with Vision, he loved asking her various questions regarding social norms and many other things involving 'humanity', and she found his frank speech and uplifting ideology were a refreshing change from the rampant pessimism was exhibited from most of the people from her previous life. That is, her life before coming to the facility. It was funny, that she would already be categorizing her life into _before_ the Avengers and _after_ the Avengers. It wasn't anything she felt like she could talk about, this shift in her feelings. It seemed too sudden. Too overwhelming. Too perfect. And yet she couldn't deny that despite the short time she had spent here, she felt _different_ , somehow. Somehow, _changed_. It wasn't anything she could physically put her finger on, it was more like something working its way into her heart. Into the very fiber of her being. She had a feeling that the person that eventually left this facility would be a completely different person than the one who went in. But would that be a good thing? Or a bad thing? Rebecca wasn't sure.

She had gone back to the rooftop every night since...that first time. It was peaceful up there, especially with a cup of tea and a book. If she was being totally honest with herself she would admit that she went there each night with the hope that Natasha would be there as well. That she would sit with her again, talking and drinking tea. But she hadn't shown up. In fact, she had barely seen Natasha at all since Clint left. Just in passing. A few times in the corridor. Once or twice in the mess hall or in the training room. She was a shadow, a phantom. Every time she thought she found her, she would turn around and find that she had disappeared just as quickly. She wanted to talk to her, be frank with her. And also to basically apologize. It was pretty obvious to Rebecca that she was interested in the woman known as the formidable Black Widow. Natasha was known by many names, she was finding out. Through discreet questioning of various people throughout the facility she gathered those names like secret and treasured gems. The Russian Avenger. The Slavic Shadow. The Red Death. The more she heard about Natasha's strength, her prowess, her skills, her keen intelligence; the more she realized that what she thought she felt that night was completely ridiculous. What would this woman; this incredible and amazing woman, want with _her_? In hindsight, she was now pretty embarrassed over the way she had practically thrown herself at her. She was usually the Queen of 'hiding-your-feelings' land, so she had no idea what had come over her. The fact that she hadn't been able to accurately track her down to talk with her within the last few days just confirmed her feelings. Natasha had absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. She had made a fool of herself in front of her.

Which was the _other_ reason why she hadn't slept well the night before. But that wasn't something she wanted to think about right now. Or ever, actually.

 _Maybe if I'm lucky_ , she thought, _She'll just forget that it even happened and we can get back to having a normal relationship_. If such a thing was even possible. Even though Rebecca was fairly certain that Natasha has no feelings towards her, she couldn't really change how **she** felt. If she didn't want the other woman to think she was a total creeper she was going to have to really hide her feelings better.

She spent another quarter of an hour talking with Pepper, just cordial small talk, until finally saying goodbye and signing off. It was a good feeling to know that someone she respected thought highly of what she had written so far. At least that was one less thing she had to worry about.

She stretched and yawned. It was still fairly early, she could roll back over and get some more much needed sleep. Her bed _did_ look inviting. She had a brief moment where she wondered if all the beds and rooms in the compound were the same. What about the rooms in the Avenger's quarters? What about...Natasha's bed? Was it like hers? She turned and looked down behind her at her own crumpled bed. She had a flash of the image of Natasha laying there, green eyes locked onto hers, red hair spilling on the pillow behind her, a sultry smile spread across her face. She blushed. _Whoa there._ she thought. _Calm the hell down. You're not even completely awake yet and THESE are the thoughts you are having?! Will you get a grip?_ She banished the licentious thoughts and blamed it on lack of proper sleep. It would probably do her a bit of good to get some more rest. But despite her fatigue she found that she was too wired to do anything but write. Her head buzzed with ideas and thoughts and words and all kinds of scenarios for her book. This was the most exciting part about being a writer; the creativity, the drive to bring your words to life, the feeling that anything and everything was possible. She threw her hair back in a haphazard, lopsided ponytail and stretched one more time.

"Okay then," she said aloud as she pulled her laptop back down into her lap. "Let's do this."

...

She lost track of time completely when she was in that fuge state of writing. So only when her stomach grumbled loudly did she finally check the time and was surprised to see that it was almost two o'clock in the afternoon. She finished up the last few lines she was working on and then saved the document and closed her computer. She stretched out languidly on the bed and let out a little happy sigh. It was a successful morning. She sat up and looked in the mirror, cringing at the sight of her hair and the fact that she was still in her pajamas. _Well,_ she thought wryly, _it's nothing a shower and a good change of clothes can't fix._

...

She met up with Vision in one of the computer labs, and after inquiring after Wanda he informed her that she had been down practicing in one of the training rooms, the same one where she had first met her for a good part of the morning. She grabbed a quick sandwich from the mess hall and ate it on the way down there. She hadn't seen Wanda much the past few days and she was looking forward to spending some time with her again, as well as seeing how her work with accuracy was progressing. In her opinion, she didn't need much practice at all. The girl had some wicked talent. When she got there she saw that there weren't too many people in the training room. It was beautiful out, breezy and not too warm, so she figured a lot of people who were training were probably doing it outside. Wanda was flinging red balls of energy towards three targets she had hanging up on the wall in the far corner of the room. She was moving her hands so fast Rebecca's eyes could barely keep up. After a few seconds she took a few steps back and did the same thing from a farther distance. Not wanting to startle her, she called out her name as she approached. Wanda looked over at her and smiled.

"How goes the training?" Rebecca asked her.

Wanda exhaled slowly. "It is going...okay, I think. Not nearly as good as it should be."

"Why do you say that?" she asked. To her it seemed like she was doing a great job.

Wanda shrugged and looked back at the wall. "I have been missing a lot. More than usual."

Rebecca clapped her on the shoulder. "Maybe you're just having an off day? I'm sure it's not so bad." She sat down cross-legged on the floor. "Go on, I'll watch you. Let's see you ace it."

Wanda smiled and turned back around, sending a flurry of red sparks towards the wall, over and over again. Now that she was really paying attention, she became uneasy as she realized that Wanda had been right; she **was** missing quite a few of the targets. At first Rebecca worried that it was her presence that was causing it and that she was interfering with her training. But as she watched her body she could see that that wasn't the case. Her spine and legs were ramrod straight, yet it seemed to be from tenseness rather than concentration. Her eyes seemed glazed, distracted. Her bottom lip trembled and suddenly her eyes filled with tears and spilled over. She was crying.

Alarmed, Rebecca got to her feet and asked tentatively, "Wanda? Wanda, are you okay?"

She sniffed and turned away, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm fine. Just...like you said. Having an off day."

Rebecca frowned. She could tell that wasn't it. That it wasn't it at all. There was something really upsetting the young woman, and it killed her to see her suffering so. She knew if she left it alone, like Wanda probably wanted, she would just hide her emotions, bury them down, and continue on like nothing was wrong. Rebecca could recognize the pattern. Shit, it was the same pattern she herself had lived by her whole life. Don't let anyone see you suffer, don't let anyone in, just handle it all on your own. But she found she just couldn't leave it alone. Not this time, not with this girl who she was already considering a friend. And then she remembered Natasha staying with her the other night. Staying with her until the panic attack had subsided. She didn't **have** to do that, yet she did. And she knew what the right thing was to do.

"Hey," Rebecca said to her. "Want to get out of here for a little bit?"

...

The sun in her face and the wind in her hair felt _really good._ Driving the back roads through the New York countryside was incredibly relaxing, moreso now than when she first came through because she had lost that overwhelming sense of nervousness. It really was a beautiful area. Definately the kind of place she had always hoped she would end up.

She had almost had a little bit of a difficult time tracking her car down when they were in the parking garage of the facility. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had driven in, even though only a dew days had passed. Wanda didn't ask any questions as to where they were going, but Rebecca could tell she was curious. She made small talk with her, nothing too overly personal. She found out that Wanda was originally from Sokovia. Which explained where she had met the other Avengers. She discovered that she loved being outdoors and classic movies and to Rebecca's delight, books. It took a little coaxing, but after a while she noticed the tenseness melt a little from Wanda as she came out of her shell.

As to where they were going, it was something of a whim that had flitted through Rebecca's head as she was watching Wanda practice earlier. It wasn't anything exciting or mindblowing, just a simple little thing. But if it brought a smile the other girl's face it would be completely worth it.

They drove to the nearest town, Warsaw, and pulled up in front of a little building that was decorated with bright colors. "Where are we?" Wanda asked.

Rebecca flung open the drivers door exhuberantly and threw her sunglasses down on the seat. "Ta-dah!" she exclaimed. "I've brought you for some ice-cream!"

Wanda got out of the car and stared. "Ice cream?"

Rebecca's face fell. "Oh god, I didn't even think to ask...are you allergic? Do you not like ice cream?"

Wanda saw her expression and burst out laughing. "Oh no, I love ice cream. It's just...you brought me all the way out here just for this?"

She nodded. "Of course. You seemed a bit...down and I thought..." She gestured to the building. "Ice cream! Which makes everything better. Right?"

Wanda looked at the building for a moment more, before turning back to Rebecca with a huge smile. "Absolutely."

...

There was a little weather-beaten table out front where they sat and ate their cold treats. After much deliberation they both ended up choosing vanilla cones, Rebecca's with rainbow sprinkles and Wanda's with chocolate.

They were laughing over something Clint had recently said when Rebecca asked her, "Do you think he'll be back soon? Clint, I mean."

Wanda shrugged. "Hard to say. Sometimes he is gone for a week or more. Other times he is back in a day or two. He and Natasha are sent out like this quite often."

"Maria doesn't ever send you?"

She shook her head and said with a smile, "I am a little too conspicuous for those types of missions."

Rebecca grinned. "Okay, yeah. I can totally see how that would work against you." There was so much she wanted to ask the other girl. What it _felt_ like being an Avenger, being a part of the team. What it was like to work with incredible people like Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, and...what it was like to work with...

"I know what you are wanting to ask me," Wanda said, interupting her train of thoughts.

"Ah, what?" Rebecca said, startled.

Wanda gave her a knowing smile. "I can see peoples thoughts; feel them as if they are inside my own head."

Rebecca blushed. _Holy shit,_ she thought wildly. _Thank god she wasn't around me earlier this morning. That would have been pretty embarrassing_.

"So I know you want to ask me about Natasha." She licked her cone. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Rebecca hesitated at the bluntness of her companian. What **did** she want to ask her? "I...guess I just was curious about...what she was like, you know, as a team mate. What is it like working with her?" _I sound like a complete moron,_ she thought.

Wanda folded her hand together before beginning, "Her and Steve have been the two that have been mainly training us, the new Avengers, since we got back. She is very tough, but also very fair. She seems to know what our limits are better than we do. And she brings us right to that line without crossing it. And as tough as she is, she is one of the few people I would trust to have my back."

Rebecca nodded. That sounded about right. She thought about the other night, when Natasha had taken her into her arms and comforted her without a second thought, just because she was suffering. If she hadn't already admired and respected her, that would have been enough to seal the deal. She closed her eyes. If only it just ended with the respect and admiration. But no, of course, she had to go and develop a crush on the other woman. Typical.

"And to answer your other question," Wanda continued. "The other question in your head, what it feels like to be an Avenger?" She reached across the table and gripped Rebecca's hand with a smile. "It feels like family."

Rebecca's heart seemed to fill with warmth like a balloon. So it was true. Everything that she had expected, everything that she herself had been feeling since coming to the compound; it was all true. It was all wonderfully true.

"I have a brother..." Wanda said before stopping abrubtly. "That is, I **had** a brother. He was my twin. He was my everything. The other part of my soul." She looked off in the distance, her eyes sad.

Rebecca could feel Wanda's hand trembling in hers. "What happened to him?" she asked softly.

"He died...in the Sokovia battle." A tear rolled down her cheek.

Rebecca felt her heart break for the girl. How horrible to lose a sibling, and a twin nonetheless. No wonder she seemed like she was made out of glass and ready to shatter. She got up and walked to the other side of the table, sitting next to her. She wordlessly enveloped the girl in an embrace.

"I still miss him so much, _every_ day I miss him," Wanda said morosely.

"And you will miss him, you'll probably never stop missing him," Rebecca said as she rubbed her back soothingly. "But I promise it will get better, sweetie. You have to concentrate on everything you two shared, and all the good times you had together."

"He would want that," Wanda said. "He would not want me to be sad all the time over him."

Rebecca nodded. "Of course he wouldn't. I'm sure he loved you very much. I...can't even begin to imagine what you're going through. But I want you to know...that I'm always here for you, if you ever need anything. Just want to talk, or to get away from everything for a little bit; I'm here for you, okay?"

Wanda smiled, wiping her eyes. "Thank you. I am really glad we met."

Rebecca smiled back, giving her another quick squeeze before getting up and going back to her original seat. "Me too. I think we were defintaely meant to be friends."

"I agree! And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on your shoulder like that, _literally_ cry on your shoulder. The whole reason I brought it up was because of what we were talking about before. About the Avengers feeling like family." She looked at her. "I thought I was going to die, after I lost my dear brother. And while it still is very painful, being with my team, being with the Avengers, makes me feel as if I am part of a family again. And **that** is what it is like to be a part of the Avengers."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Rebecca said, feeling overhwelmingly grateful to have met these people. These incredible and amazing people.

"Now, may I ask _you_ a question?" Wanda asked tentatively.

"Of course," Rebecca said. "What's up?"

She ran her finger along a knot in the wooden table. "Do you think...love can be defined in terms of black and white?"

 _Where is this coming from?_ she wondered. "Well," Rebecca said carefully. "Coming from someone who has been in different relationships through the years I would say, that no, it can't be defined in such clear cut roles. When you love a person, it sort of defines itself, you know? Why do you ask?"

"What if the person you are having these feelings for...is not an actual _person_?" She looked at Rebecca worridly, as if really concerned for what her reaction would be.

 _Ah,_ Rebecca thought. _Now I think I understand all those heated gazes between her and Vision_. "Honestly?" she said. "I don't think it matters whether the person is an actual person or not. Does he treat you kindly, and with respect? Do you have fun with him? Do you have **real** and **true** feelings for him?" She smiled and squeezed Wanda's hand. " **Those** are the things that matter, the things that are important. That's all you need to worry about. I have always believed that love is one of those rare and beautiful things that exists outside of the norms that are so confining."

Wanda grinned. "I think so too. Thank you, Becky. For listenening, and for...everything."

"You don't have to thank me," Rebecca laughed. "After all, what are friends for, right?" She looked back to the building where they had gotten the ice cream. "Speaking of...what do you say to bringing home a surprise for the rest of them?"

...

Some time later, Rebecca and Wanda walked into the quarters of the Avengers section of the compound and were surprised when they turned the corner and almost ran right into Natasha and Clint, who were talking in the kitchen.

Rebecca let out a squeak in shock and Wanda exclaimed "CLINT!"

He and Natasha both turned to them, looking rather surprised. Clint had a few bruises and a bandaid above his left eye, but otherwise looking none the worse for wear. Natasha just looked amused.

"Hey guys!" Clint said "You miss me or what?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and laughed. "Of course we missed you, jackass. Welcome back!"

He walked over and ruffled Wanda's hair. "It's good to be back!"

Natasha smiled wryly. "And of course he missed you two. What would Clint do without his baby chicks?"

Clint turned and punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Watch yourself Romanoff, your jealousy is showing."

Natasha scoffed, folded her arms across her chest and smiling good naturedly.

Looking back at the girls, Clint asked, "What's in the bags?"

Rebecca held one up. "Ice cream. Wanda and I ran out and had some, and we thought you guys would maybe like some too."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Wanda laughed. "Would we tease you over something as important as ice cream?"

He walked over and peered into the bags, his eyes as large as an excited puppy. "What kind did you get?"

Rebecca started pulling containers out of the bag. "Well, we got a quart of vanilla, a quart of chocolate, and a quart of pistachio, because I wasn't sure what everyone likes. Do you think this is enough for everyone?"

Clint started grabbing bowls and spoons out of drawers and cabinets. "It's definately enough for **me** , hell I'm going to have a few bowls right now." He balanced the bowls on top of the containers and ran into the other room with them."

"Hey!" Wanda called out sternly as she ran after him, "Save some for Steve and Sam! And don't take it in there, you're going to spill it everywhere."

Rebecca and Natasha were left alone in the kitchen. It was the first time she had been this close to her since the other night on the roof. And oddly enough, she wasn't nervous at all. She wondered what had changed. If anything, she felt completely _comfortable_ around her now. Weird. And kind of exciting.

"That was your idea, wasn't it?" Natasha suddenly asked her.

"What was?"

She nodded towards the living room. "Taking Wanda out. The ice cream. All of it."

Rebecca shrugged. "Yes, it was. She was having a bit of a rough afternoon, so I thought it would do her good to get her mind off of things a bit."

"Did she tell you about her brother?" Natasha asked.

Rebecca nodded.

"She was a real mess when we got back from Sokovia," Natasha continued. "Wouldn't eat. Depressed. Angry. Wanted to lash out at everyone and everything. Clint was the only one she would respond to. His wife just had a baby a few months ago. Did you know that?"

Rebecca shook her head.

Well, Steve and I called him, after nothing else seemed to be working, and asked him to come back for a little bit, to see if it would make a difference."

"And it did?" Rebecca asked softly.

"It **really** did," Natasha said. "I don't know what happened exactly, but I think Clint was the one who really rallied her and got her to pull herself together during the battle of Sokovia. And that created a bond. Clint the mother hen." She chuckled. "I'm never going to stop teasing him about that."

"I'm glad she's doing better," Rebecca said, smiling. "She's really a great girl."

"Yeah, it's really fantastic to see her laugh again. Aside from Clint, you're the only other person she seems to laugh easy with. Well, Vision too, I suppose, but that's a whole different ball game."

Rebecca flushed. "Oh! I forgot!" She pulled the last container out of the bag and placed it on the counter.

"What's this?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I got the boys their ice cream and figured you might like some too. You'll have to hide it though, to keep it safe from Clint, I expect. I...wasn't sure what your favorite flavor was, so I just went with my gut feeling." She grinned shyly. "You seem like a strawberry kind of girl, so that's what I went with."

Natasha looked at the container for a moment and then back up to Rebecca. "This is for me?"

"Well...yeah. I was...thinking about you. Did I make the wrong choice?"

Natasha let out a small laugh. "No, actually, you were spot on. Strawberry is my absolute favorite."

Rebecca felt a small burst of triumph slide warmly up her spine. "Well, I guess it was lucky that I was thinking about you, huh?"

Natasha bit her lip and smiled. "I like that. That you were thinking about me."

 _I'm always thinking about you,_ Rebecca thought. Instead she said, "Me too."

She ran a hand through her long hair and said, "I should probably see what Clint is up to. Make sure he's not eating all of the ice cream."

She turned and headed to the living room when she heard Natasha call out, "Wait a sec."

She looked back to see the red haired woman sliding a spoon across the counter towards her. "You expect me to eat this on my own?" She grinned. "Stay? And have some with me?"

Her head buzzing from happiness she pulled up a stool across from Natasha and sat down. This was officially the best day ever.

"And just so you know," Natasha said softly as she popped off the container top "I've been thinking about you too."

~*~To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

**Just wanted to take a moment to thank all you guys for reading/reviewing/following this story! It means to world to me and is very much appreciated! This is probably one of my favorite stories that I have written, and I am so glad you all like it! Thanks for taking the time to read it! Love you all! :)**

Rebecca had certainly flown before. Numerous times. She had taken a vacation to Seattle a few years ago and had been in a plane then. Not to mention the couple of book tours she had went to out west which of course required her to take flights. So she was used to flying, it was almost second nature to her.

But none of that could compare to flying in the QuinJet.

She couldn't believe her luck. Really and truly couldn't.

It had been three full weeks since she had arrived at the compound. Three weeks of spending time with the Avengers, getting acclimated to their different personalities and lifestyles. Three weeks of learning the ins and outs of the facility, of workout sessions with Steve, various discussions with Maria, and lunches and dinners with Clint, Wanda, and Natasha.

And writing, endlessly writing. Rebecca couldn't honestly remember a time when she had felt more prolific. Any time she wasn't with the others was spent working on her book. She knew Rome wasn't built in a day, and she also knew she had quite a long way to go, but as she sat in her bed, computer in her lap, furiously typing away at the keyboard she couldn't help but marvel at the amount of ideas and thoughts that came gushing out of her, like a torrent of water bursting free of a dam. _I've written books before,_ she thought one night as she paused in her work and looked around the room in a blurry-eyed haze. _But nothing has ever quite felt like this before_. It was almost as if meeting these people; these wonderful and amazing people, had ignited some spark of creativity in her that had previously lain dormant. She wondered what they would think if she were to tell them that they were her muses.

In the beginning she had had an idea. She wanted to use her skills, feeble as they may be, to show the world what heroes the Avengers truly were. And she was here because of that idea. These people had opened their lives to her, had let her come and stay there with them, and she was starting to feel like she was the one who had been changed; would in fact never be the same. So she would work her hardest to do right by them. She would publish this book, dammit, and let the world see them for how wonderful they really were. Her friends. The Avengers.

Ever since that afternoon where they had gone out together for ice cream, Wanda had really come out of her shell. The more time Rebecca spent with her the more she seemed to open up. She was talking more, laughing more, basically just interacting with everyone more. Even her concentration during her training sessions was improving.

Clint was ecstatic. He came across Rebecca in the hallway one afternoon and fist-bumped her.

"What was that for?" she asked, bemused.

"For whatever you did to make Wanda so happy," he said with a chuckle. "Usually its my job to make sure she's doing alright. But you're phasing me out, kiddo!" He ruffled her hair and continued on his way.

But Rebecca didn't believe Wanda's newfound happiness was a result of her influence. Not entirely anyway. There was a sense of...optimism that seemed to permeate the atmosphere of the compound. Rebecca could tell because she felt it quite keenly. She just felt **better** about everything when she was with them. More and more she found herself spending her evenings with the others in the lounge in the Avenger's section of the facility. On breally/b good nights, nights that were, upon reflection, her _favorite_ nights, she would take walks with Natasha. Or drink tea with her on the roof. There would be times where she would be sitting on the couch with Wanda or Clint and Natasha would come up and pull her hair gently or tap her on the arm to get her attention. When she would look up at her, Natasha would nod her head towards the kitchen and Rebecca would nod back and smile, knowing that she meant for them to meet up on the roof. Unable to resist, no matter what she was doing at the time; she would get up, make her tea, and follow Natasha up to the roof which had become their own private haven.

Natasha. Every moment she spent with her seemed too good to be true. Perfect moments of bliss. Things had been a little easier for Rebecca once she stopped being so nervous around her. She wasn't sure how or why, but she knew that somehow she had become completely comfortable around Natasha, in a way that surpassed even the comfort level she felt around Wanda and even Clint. She began to feel walls come down around her that she hadn't even known where there. And she couldn't be sure, because she never explicitly asked, but it seemed as if Natasha was more comfortable around her as well. While she was careful to never talk about her past, Natasha loved to talk with her about anything and everything else. Sometimes on their walks, or rooftop jaunts, they would converse well into the night, neither one noticing the lateness of the hour until they caught glimpses of the first bright tangerine rays of daylight appearing across the horizon.

With every smile she witnessed, every tilt of the head, every flash of light that sparkled in her eyes, Rebecca fell more and more head over heels for her; for this incredible, intelligent, kind-hearted woman. Her warmth, her cheerful, unpredictable qualities; these were the things that she adored about her the most. Natasha moved with a thrilling quickness, with gestures that were sudden and airy, and she always perched on the edge of her chair like some elegant bird about to fly away. Rebecca also loved the perfume she wore, rough and unexpected, like the electrifying scent of ozone before a storm. Her laugh was vibrant enough to make you want to stop whatever you were doing and follow her anywhere. Yep. She had it _bad_. And the question that was most predominantly on her mind was...did Natasha feel the same way? It was hard to tell. Almost impossible for Rebecca to discern. For every instant that she thought maybe she _did_ feel that way, she would become plagued with doubts and self conscious fears that suggested otherwise. She desperately wanted to reach out and talk to someone about it, Wanda or Clint perhaps. But embarrassment held her tongue every time she tried to bring it up. What if Natasha _didn't_ feel that way? What if she was content with just being friends or casual acquaintances? The last thing she wanted was her friends to feel badly for her or pity her. Unthinkable. No way could she let that happen. This was on that Rebecca knew she had to handle on her own.

She knew that Natasha liked men. Clint had said as much when they first met. But of course that didn't mean that she had to only **exclusively** like men. She could like both, right? Rebecca did, after all. Was it too much to hope that Natasha felt similarly? How could she be sure, in any case? _They don't hand out pamphlets for this sort of thing when you're bisexual,_ she thought one evening, frustrated to the point where she wanted to pull her hair out. _I wish to hell that they did, though! There should be a secret password or handshake or something that indicates what gender or genders you're interested in. Dammit, things would be so much easier if that were the case._

There were moments; oh yes, there were moments. A glance here, a touch on the shoulder or waist there, that made Rebecca think, _Oh god, this is it. I'm going to tell her_ **now**. _No. I'm going to_ **kiss** _her now!_ But she never took that next step. And neither did Natasha. It was like balancing on the edge of a cliff blindfolded; afraid to take a step in either direction. And in her mind, when she took a step back and tried to look at the situation rationally, she felt her confidence melt away and she berated herself for even thinking that she had the slightest chance with Natasha. Forget about the part where she was an Avenger. Just the person she was, the _woman_ she was. She could tell that Natasha had been through a lot in her past, and yet she never seemed to lose that inner light that made her...well, _her_. She was loyal to a fault, tremendously intelligent and courageous. And, to Rebecca's delight, she was at heart a big softie. Oh, she liked to put up a tough front, but Rebecca could see through the cracks in Natasha's exterior to the warm hearted woman that lay beneath it all. How could someone that wonderful ever be interested in little old her? She wasn't anything special. And it was hard to ignore that dark voice inside her that told her she didn't deserve her.

She shook her head, dispelling those grim thoughts. This was a conundrum for another day. She pushed aside any residual doubts and confusion and focused on the matter at hand. She was on the QuinJet. The QuinJet! Tomorrow was the Fourth of July and Clint had invited her and the others to his family's farmhouse for a celebration of sorts.

"It'll be great," he had told her when he first brought it up a few days beforehand. "You'll love it there. And I really want you to meet my family."

She had been so stunned, so pleased, so happily overwhelmed, that the unexpected proposal made her burst into tears.

"Whoa, now," he said, patting her shoulder uncomfortably. "No need for all that. If you don't want to come you can just say so. No need to cry about it."

She kicked him. "That's not it at all, you clueless dolt!" I'm just so...so grateful that you thought to ask me. Of course I'm coming. I'd **love** to come." She wiped her eyes awkwardly. "Thank you, Clint."

He enveloped her in a great big bear hug. "Why wouldn't I invite you, you silly thing," he asked. "Just because you aren't an Avenger doesn't mean you aren't important to me. To **us**."

She smiled at the recollection as she gazed around the rest of the jet. Steve and Sam Wilson were talking together a few aisles across. Wanda was a few seats behind them, fast asleep, Vision sitting next to her, lost in his own thoughts. Maria sadly hadn't been able to make it, her schedule just being too busy for her to take off, even if it was for just a couple days. Although she was turning a blind eye to them even using the QuinJet, which Rebecca thought was rather nice of her, since they weren't using it on any type of actual assignment. Clint was up in the cockpit, flying. He had told her earlier that Tony would be arriving later that day with Pepper. She was almost speechless with delight at the thought of seeing Pepper again. She had to admit she was also a bit excited to finally meet the notorious Tony Stark, of whom she had heard so much, both good and bad. There was even a rumor floating around that Thor might show up. Clint hadn't been completely sure on that account. He had extended an invitation to him, but Clint knew he was extremely busy with an important quest and wasn't sure if he would be turning up at all. Rebecca had tentatively asked Clint if Bruce Banner would be coming, since he was another member of the team she was anxious to meet. But Clint had shook his head wordlessly and grit his teeth and wouldn't say any more on the matter. It was odd, that. There was always a slight tension, especially with Natasha and Clint, whenever the subject of the Hulk was brought up. She couldn't seem to get a straight answer on where he was or why he left, but she suspected it had something to do with their last mission in Sokovia. _Ah well,_ she thought as she snuggled back into her seat. _Just another mystery for me to work out, I guess_. She did hope he would come back soon though. Se was particularly interested in speaking with him and discussing what it was like to actually be the Hulk. it was an important aspect of her book that she was excited to work on.

She looked out the window and sighed happily. This was certainly going to be a Fourth of July that she was not likely to forget.

"You look like you're about to pee yourself," said a familiar husky voice to her left.

Rebecca blushed when she realized she had been slightly bouncing up and down in her seat like a little kid. How in the world could she have forgotten who she was sitting next to?!

"Sorry, Nat," she said with a bashful grin. "I hope I wasn't bothering you."

"Not at all," the red haired woman said with a smile. "I've just never seen anyone so keyed up to be flying before, that's all."

"It's not the flying part," Rebecca said. "Although...yeah, this jet is seriously amazing. I'm just happy we're all going to a party together. Do you know that this is the first time since I've met you guys that we're all doing something together outside of the compound?"

"That's what has you all uppity?"

Rebecca nodded, practically buzzing with happiness.

Natasha laughed. "Becks, we _really_ need to get you out more. You're like an overexcited kitten. But as it is...I'm glad you came."

Rebecca met her gaze, feeling that all too familiar skip of her heart that occurred whenever she got lost in those gorgeous green eyes. "Me too," she said.

Clint had told them it was only a few hour flight to his family's farmhouse. Nevertheless, he had still woken them up and rounded them all together rather early to get started on their trip. Rebecca, having spent much of the previous night writing, found herself suddenly exhausted, despite her extreme enthusiasm. After a few yawns and more cloud gazing out the window, she found herself fast asleep.

...

She came to gradually, after hearing what she thought was her name being whispered in her ear. As she opened her eyes slowly she realized, with increasing embarrassment, that in her sleep her head must have fallen on Natasha's shoulder. She had snuggled up next to her as if she was some kind of huge teddy bear. She couldn't believe the other woman had let her stay like that. In fact, it actually felt like Natasha had leaned into her as she was sleeping. She could feel the warmth from her body pressed up against her. She enjoyed the sensation for a few moments longer before sitting up and stretching. out of the corner of her eye she caught Natasha looking as her, a wry smile spread teasingly across her lips.

"Sleep well, kitten?" she asked.

Rebecca couldn't help but smile. "Oh yes," she said. "I managed to come across the most comfortable place to sleep on the whole jet."

"Don't worry," she heard Visions say behind them, very matter of fact, "You were not snoring."

 _Well, that's a relief_ , thought Rebecca as she rolled her eyes.

"Get your shit together people," Clint called out from the front. We're just about there.

...

Rebecca slung her bag over her shoulder and followed the others off the jet after it landed. As she stepped off the platform she was struck by how...perfectly natural everything felt. The fresh scent of mown grass filled her nose, overwhelming her with nostalgic memories of beloved childhood summers. Fat bees droned lazily in the field surrounding the farmhouse. Wisteria and hydrangea sprang up around the base of the house, which was dappled a soft yellow from the early afternoon sunshine. Everything just felt so very cozy.

"I already like it here," Wanda said softly as she came up next to her.

Rebecca slipped her hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze. "Me too. It seems perfect."

Clint led them all up to the front door, where his wife Laura was waiting. She had heard a lot about her from Natasha, who was a very good friend of the family, so she knew a little bit what to expect. But what she didn't expect was to be enveloped in a warm embrace when she got up to the porch. She had been lingering shyly with Wanda behind everyone else, while Clint introduced Laura to those she hadn't met previously. Clint caught Rebecca's eye and steered Laura over to where her and Wanda were standing.

"Guys," he said proudly, "This is Laura, my wife." He grinned. "And Laura, these are my two newest kids, Wanda and Rebecca."

Wanda let out a small noise of happiness next to her, and though Rebecca remained silent she was also overcome with emotion. She knew Natasha and the others teased Clint endlessly on his acquiring her and Wanda as his newest 'baby chicks', but she hadn't really understood until that very moment that he really did truly think of them as his 'kids'. Knowing that he thought of her as family made her feel warm and dizzy all at the same time. The feeling intensified when Laura came up and hugged both her and Wanda. It took her completely by surprise. When was the last time she had been hugged like this? A mother's embrace. She closed her eyes. Had she _ever_ been hugged like this? With such pure emotion and no manipulative malice? She honestly couldn't remember.

"Clint's told me so much about you both," she said warmly. "It's very good to finally meet you."

"Thank you for having us," Wanda said.

"Yes, thank you," Rebecca echoed. "Clint's told us a lot about you as well."

Natasha came up and put her arm on Laura's shoulder. "Did he tell you that Laura here had been awarded with three medals and a lifetime achievement award just for putting up with his sorry ass?"

"Hey!" Clint said, looking wounded as the rest of them, including Laura, laughed.

They were interrupted by a noisy onslaught of children as two kids came bursting out of the front door, the oldest one holding a baby that looked to be less than a year old.

"Hey, kiddos!" Clint said, his face lighting up at the sight of his children. He turned to the rest of the group and said, "For those of you who haven't met, this is Josh, Annmarie, and little Nathaniel." Everyone made a fuss over the kids; Steve ruffled Josh's hair and told him how big he was getting, Sam high fiving Annmarie and telling her how pretty her dress was. But Rebecca had eyes only for Natasha, who had taken her namesake, Nathaniel, into her arms and was rocking him gently as she conversed with Laura. It was moments like these that Rebecca treasured most of all, when Natasha let her guard down. It was times like this that made Rebecca think that this woman's heart was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"Alright, everyone," Clint announced. "Let me show you where you're all going to be staying."

...

The farmhouse, for as big as it looked, wasn't plentiful in extra bedrooms, so Clint had made it clear that come of them would be bunking up together. Which didn't bother Rebecca in the least. She was comfortable with everyone here and besides, it was just for two nights. The plan was that they would be leaving early in the morning the day after tomorrow. _Besides,_ she thought as they climbed the stairs, _I'm sure he's just going to put me with Wanda anyway._

"So the kids are going to be staying with me and Laura in our room," he was saying as they reached the top of the stairs. "Which leaves Steve and Sam in one rom, Pepper and Tony can share a room once they get here." He looked around. "Wanda, you can take Nathaniel's room. Vision already said he can use to couch for when he needs to power down. And Becks, you and Natasha can bunk together in the loft." He looked at Natasha when he said the last part and if Rebecca didn't know any better she would say that he winked at her.

Rebecca wasn't sure whether to panic or laugh out loud. Was she honestly expected to be able to **sleep** next to Natasha? How in the hell was she supposed to fall asleep knowing she was just inches away from her? All she would have to do was reach over...a mere few inches...to be able to take her into her arms. She could turn her around and pull her even closer. She could tangle her fingers in that glorious fiery hair. She could press those luscious lips against her own and then...and then she would...

Wanda coughed discreetly next to her.

Fuck. She kept forgetting that her friend could read thoughts. Particularly **loud** thoughts. "Wanda, ah...I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear...erm...that is..." _Well, the cat's out of the bag on that one I guess_.

Wanda laughed. "Becks, don't worry so much. It is a thing that happens often, when you are around other people so much, you know? I am used to it. Besides..." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "If it makes you feel any better..."

"I'd better get cleaned up real quick before dinner," Rebecca cut in, so embarrassed she felt that she couldn't stand there for another second. she pulled her bag back up tighter on her shoulder and went up to the loft.

Wanda watched her leave, shaking her head and smiling. "Ah well, my friend," she said softly. "I suppose you will find out soon enough."

...

When she reached the top of the loft she saw that it had once been a large attic which had been converted into a small guest bedroom with a bathroom attached. There was a small dresser with a lamp, a solitary window that looked out into the fields and meadows surrounding the house. And only one bed. _Of course there would only be one bed_ , Rebecca thought, her head buried in her hands. _Of course._ While the rest of the guests unpacked their minimal belongings, Rebecca decided it would be best to take a shower. A cold one. Sheesh. She couldn't believe she had let her thoughts slip around Wanda like that. The water ran down her body, and Rebecca relaxed into it, hoping it would wash away her rampaging libido. Natasha had that effect on her though. Thankfully, for the time being Natasha was with Wanda helping Laura get dinner ready. Se still wasn't sure if it was extremely good luck or extremely bad luck that they were sharing a room. Maybe this was the chance she was looking for, the chance she needed to tell Natasha how she really felt. _Oh sure_ , she thought as she rinsed shampoo from her hair. _Tell her you have a crush on her, that you're falling for her, and then after she rejects you, you get to spend the rest of this trip in awkward silence around each other._ But that wasn't quite right. She was treating it as if it was some flippant thing, which, is she were being completely honest with herself, she would have to admit that it wasn't. Because of course it wasn't as easy as just confessing a crush. A crush was flighty. A paper heart that could be blown away with a change in the wind. She felt something tighten in her stomach. This didn't feel like that sort of thing. She had had crushes before. Tons of them. She had been infatuated before. This just felt completely different from that. From anything she had ever felt before. It was very odd. And confusing. And it scared the hell out of her. She had only known the woman for three weeks for Christ's sake. What the hell was wrong with her?

Unintentionally her mind wandered back to her thoughts from earlier. She wondered what it would be like, sleeping next to her. Close enough to hear the other woman's heartbeat. That was if she actually slept in the same bed with her. She might want to sleep on the floor. But what if she didn't? What if she did want to sleep with her? What then? Rebecca took a few moments to indulge in a sweet fantasy of all the delightful things she would want to do with her. Of all the things she wanted to do bto/b her. She imagined that slim pale body like spilled cream beneath her hands. She let out a small sigh as she ran her soapy hands across her own body, arousal causing all her nerve endings to be especially sensitive. She cupped her breasts, squeezing her nipples slightly and wondering what Natasha's breasts felt like. What they _tasted_ like. A small moan escaped her lips involuntarily.

The bathroom door opened and then closed again with a quick slam.

Ripped out of her daydream she called out, "H-hello? I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Oh, it's **you** , Becks? So sorry. Didn't know it was **you** in here.

Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand. It was Natasha. Jesus Christ. Had she heard her? As she moaned and sighed and touched herself to thoughts of her?

"So sorry to bother you, Becks," Natasha continued. Rebecca could hear her moving around the bathroom. "I just need to brush my hair real quick before dinner. You don't mind that I do it in here...do you?"

Rebecca thought she might be having some sort of stroke. Somehow she managed out a feeble sounding, "O-of course not."

"Thank you."

If Rebecca didn't know any better, she'd say that Natasha sounded amused. At the very least, she didn't sound sorry at all for having barged in on her. For some reason she felt as if she had been caught in some kind of ambush that she didn't know the rules to. She stood stock still under the shower head, water pouring over her, quite unable to move.

"Don't mind me at all," Natasha called out cheerily. "I'll just go about my business and you can go ahead and finish up what you were doing. Cleaning up or...whatever. I'll be out of your hair shortly."

 _Well, I was taking a shower, but then it quickly degenerated into me masturbating to thoughts of you_ , she thought. She wasn't sure if she was trapped in some kind of terribly ironic horror movie or a badly written porno.

"Becks?" Natasha asked.

"Uh...Yes?"

"While I'm in here I might as well get changed too. The lock to our bedroom door doesn't seem to be working and I don't want anyone bursting in on me."

 _Like you just did to me?!_ Rebecca thought wildly.

"So I'm just going to get changed in here," Natasha continued. "You don't mind...do you?"

Rebecca's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might explode out of her chest. _Remain calm. Remain calm. Just because the woman you are crazy about is getting changed in the same room as you, doesn't mean you get to freak out. Even though said room is the same room where you are naked and the only thing separating you two is a shower curtain._ "Yeah, sure," she said as nonchalantly as she could. "Go for it. I don't mind at all."

She could almost _hear_ Natasha smile from the other side of the shower curtain. "Thanks," she said. "I didn't think you would mind very much."

There was nothing else to do but try and finish her shower as quickly as possible. The only problem was...that she could _see_ Natasha's silhouette through the opaque curtain. Nothing clearly defined, just Natasha shaped shadows. She could hear her clothes drop softly to the ground as she got changed. Who took that long to get changed anyway? It was like she putting on a show! She could see her limbs moving slowly, fluidly. She could see the outline of her breasts as she pulled off her shirt, could see her stepping out of her panties...Fuck.

A burning heat was spreading across her loins like wildfire. She was soaking wet. She couldn't help it. And if she didn't do something about it she was going to quite possibly explode. She slid a finger across her clit and gently stroked herself. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of Natasha sliding her clothes back on. Biting her lip she slid one finger, and then two into her slick heat. She imagined what it would be like to undress her herself, pulling her clothes off and kissing every inch of her body that she exposed. Running her tongue and lips across her closed eyelids, her nose, her mouth, and working her way slowly downwards, teasing and torturing her until she was limp with desire and calling out her name. She pumped her fingers in and out of herself, she was so torqued up she knew it wouldn't take long at all. And it didn't. In what felt like seconds she felt herself climax, turning and biting her shoulder so as to remain completely quiet. Her body shook with spasms over what was probably one of the best orgasms she had ever given herself.

She was still trembling when she heard the door to the bathroom open and close again, softer this time. Finally alone, and with a shaky sigh, she turned the water off and covered herself with a towel. She leaned against the wall as she dried off, still too weak to trust herself to stand up completely on her own. _What the fuck just happened?_ she asked herself numbly. _Either I am the biggest pervert in the history of the world, or that was the hottest thing that ever happened to me._ She could only pray that Natasha hadn't heard her. She got dressed in silence.

...

As she walked out of the loft and made it to the end of the hallway, she ran into Clint.

"Dinner's almost ready," he said happily. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, peering at her closely. "You seem kind of flushed."

"Fine, I'm fine," she stammered. "But you might want to get the lock on the loft bedroom door fixed."

He furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? The lock is fine." He walked over and jiggled the handle. "See? Why did you think it was broken, anyway?"

Rebecca opened her mouth and then closed it again as Natasha came back down the hallway. "Wow, that **is** strange," she said. I could have sworn it wasn't working earlier. She looked at Rebecca and smiled deviously. "You do look a bit...heated, kitten. Too bad your shower didn't help cool you off at all." Laughing, she linked arms with a very confused looking Clint and led him down the stairs.

Rebecca stood there for a moment, completely at a loss. This was going to be a **very** long two days.

~*~ To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10: Interlude III

**"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others,**  
 **that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves." -Franciouse de L Rochefoucauld**

Natasha linked arms with Clint as they walked down the stairs.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Clint asked.

"No, probably not," she said lightly.

He snorted. "Knowing you, it probably involved torturing that poor girl, am I right?"

She shrugged innocently. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

Clint laughed. "You are absolutely sadistic, you do know that? She's probably having a heart attack right about now."

Natasha patted his arm. "She'll be fine. She's stronger than she looks, you know."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And you would know that how?"

"I've been spending a lot of time with her. I can just tell."

"Uh-huh," he said, sounding as if he didn't believe her in the slightest.

Laura met them at the bottom of the stairs. "Tony's here," she said. "He just arrived a few minutes ago. Also dinner is ready. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

He grinned cheekily at her. "So what you're saying is that you'll be watching me...like a **hawk**?

Natasha groaned. "Did he really just say that?" she asked Laura.

"'Fraid so," she said. "But are you honestly surprised?" She leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips. "Behave yourself," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said gently. She smiled at him before turning and walking back to the kitchen.

His eyes followed her as she left.

"You know you're adorable when you get all lovesick and gooey over her," Natasha said.

"It's the best feeling in the world, Nat."

"What is?"

He turned back to her and grinned. "Being in love."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Jesus, you sound like a hallmark movie."

He elbowed her. "I'm serious. You can be as tough as you want, but at the end of the day, knowing you have someone to come home to that will be there for you no matter what, no matter your faults...it's just indescribable."

She smiled sadly. "Not everyone deserves that sort of relationship, you know."

He grabbed her arm. "Stop that, Nat. I mean it. I know how you feel about your past...but everyone deserves a second chance. Especially you. You've done more than enough to redeem yourself."

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure, Barton. Whatever you say."

Clint could tell she was done talking about that particular topic. Without missing a beat, he said, "Let's not keep everyone waiting. If dinner gets cold Laura will have my hide. I'll go get Vision. Do you mind rounding up Cap?"

"Not at all, where is he? I thought he was already in the kitchen with Wanda and the others."

"He was, but then he went out back a little while ago. I'm not sure what he's doing."

She nodded. "I'll get him."

...

She walked out the front door and headed around the house towards the backyard looking for Steve. The sun was starting to go down, painting the sky various shades of pink, orange, and purple. She had played it off, but she couldn't seem to shake the way that conversation with Clint had made her feel. He knew her practically better than anyone, but even _he_ wasn't completely aware of all of the things she had done before she defected from the KGB and joined SHIELD. It had been a long, hard road for her. Climbing and clawing her way out of the pit she had been in for the majority of her life had been tough, but ultimately rewarding. She was living the life she never thought she could have. Stability. Adventure, Fulfilling work. Friendship. She was happy with the Avengers. And yet...she didn't feel complete. And it was moments like earlier, when she watched Clint with Laura that she realized what it was that she was missing. Not to say that she hadn't been in relationships before. She had had her fair share of partners over the years. Hell, she had even dated Clint in the past. But even in her more serious relationships she had never been able to completely commit herself; to let go and give herself as fully as she knew the other person deserved. And in quiet moments, moments where she was completely alone with her thoughts, she knew that a lot of that stemmed from issues of guilt from her past.

Suddenly she thought of Rebecca again, her bright smile and sunny disposition. The way she had slipped into Natasha's life like she was meant to be there; like she always belonged there. When they were together, it was as if there was a soft glow enveloping her, something almost musical, an internal sweetness that was inexplicable beyond a deep, blood-rocking harmony of rightness.

The way she made her feel...

Fuck. She wasn't ready for this. For this type of...involvement.

She reached the backyard and saw that Steve was sitting on one of the swings, on the kid's playground. She smiled ruefully and approached him. While she considered Clint her best friend and confidante, Steve had a special place in her heart as well. They worked together fluidly, both willing to give their all to get whatever the mission was accomplished. And he was so open and honest, without any of the fake bullshit that other people tried to throw her way. When it came down to it, he was just a genuinely good man. And Natasha was proud to be his friend.

"Hey," she said, sitting on the swing next to him.

He started, looking over at her in surprise, and them smiled. "Hey, Nat. I guess Laura's calling the troops in for dinner?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Clint sent me to fetch you."

They were silent for a few moments, both of them simply enjoying each others company, as well as the quiet atmosphere of a backyard at sundown.

"You know," Natasha started. "I should be really pissed at you."

"Oh yeah?" Steve asked with a smile. "And why's that?"

"There I was, trying my damndest to get you a date, and then BAM...you got one all on your own."

She saw him stiffen slightly, not looking at her.

"You do, don't you? Have a girlfriend?"

He breathed out a slow breath. "It's not that simple."

Natasha thought about Rebecca, and her own tangled, complicated feelings. The way she wanted to protect her and keep her safe, and ravage her and tear down all her walls at the same time. _Nothings really that simple_ , she thought.

"To answer your question, **yes** I have met someone. But she's not my girlfriend. Not technically. We're just friends."

"Uh huh," she said. She could tell he wasn't being completely honest with her, but she didn't want to pry. She knew how it felt to not want to play all your cards at once.

"How did you know, anyway?" he asked her.

"Well, it wasn't very hard to figure out," she responded drily. "You've got an extra spring in your step, and Vision said as he was passing by the training room showers the other day he heard you _singing_. Plus, you know, I _am_ a spy. It's sort of my job to notice things, to notice changes in people. And Steve?"

He looked at her.

"You seem _happier_ now, less burdened. That was the biggest clue."

He folded his hands in his lap and grinned. "I am, Nat. I _really_ am."

She couldn't help but smile in response at his boyish enthusiasm. "I'm really happy for you, Steve. So what's the deal with you sitting out here, being all mopey by yourself?"

"I miss her," he admitted. "I didn't realize until I got here how much I wanted her to come."

"So why didn't you bring her along? You know Clint wouldn't mind. He already invited half the compound."

"I did ask her, but...she had something important going on that she couldn't miss."

She nodded. "Is that the only reason you're out here?"

Steve looked back at the sky. "I love being here with everyone, don't get me wrong. And I appreciate that I was invited. It's just...I have some bad memories from the last time we were here."

Natasha felt her stomach lurch in sympathy. The last time they were at Clint's house had been right after an attack Wanda had made on their minds, before she changed sides. She had gotten inside their heads and showed them...things. It was a devastating assault that had left a profound effect on them all. She could see how being here would be difficult for him, especially since he didn't have any other good memories of this place, like she did, to counteract it.

She leaned over and laid her hand on his arm. "Well," she said. "Our best bet then is to make some great memories in our time here."

"She did make me an apple pie to bring," he said brightening up.

"That sounds like a good place to start. If, that is, your memory banks can hold any new ones. You're pretty ancient after all."

He laughed. "Wow. You're hilarious Romanoff. Remind me again why I'm friends with you?"

She squeezed his arm. "Because I know _exactly_ what to say to cheer you up." She stood up. "C'mon soldier. Let's get in there before Clint eats everything. You know what a bottomless pit he is."

"Hey Nat?" Steve said as he got off the swing.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For listening." He smiled. "Despite the attitude problem, you're actually a pretty good friend."

"Watch it Rogers," she said teasingly. "You get that rumor going people will think I've gone soft."

As they walked back to the house she found her thoughts wandering once more. "Can I ask you a question, Steve?"

"Of course. What's up?"

She paused for a moment, unsure of how to start. "Do you believe...in true love?"

He smiled softly. "Of course I do."

She shook her head. "Let me rephrase it. Do you believe in...love that happens...rather quickly?"

"What, do you mean, as in love at first sight?"

She shrugged. "Not really _at first sight_ per se. Just you know...fast."

He grinned. "Anyone in particular that's causing you to ask me this question?"

She scowled playfully. "Just answer the damn question, Rogers."

He stopped in his tracks and looked thoughtful. "Here's what I think. We see that kind of thing in movies and books, and we believe it to be true. We _want_ it to be true. And then we experience life and go through different things in the real world and we become, more often than not, bitter. Jaded. And we sometimes stop believing in things like love at first sight, or even true love at all." He looked at her. "I've been guilty of this as well. I think we all have, at some point in our lives. When I came out of the ice and found the world so...different, it was disorienting. And yes, a little disheartening." He sighed. "While I think that love doesn't grow overnight, I **do** think that love isn't something that can be defined by time. I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're feeling that strongly about someone, you should go for it. When it's real, you'll know it. Right here." He pointed to her chest. And when it's real, you don't want to let it pass you by."

"Do you think that everyone deserves a chance to have it?" she asked softly. It was the question she was dreading to contemplate.

He looked at her for a moment, silently assessing her. "Yes," he said simply. "I honestly do."

Natasha smiled, feeling instantly lighter. "You really think so?"

He nodded. "I do. But it doesn't matter if I think so. What matters is if **you** think so."

She considered this. "You're right. Dammit Cap, how did you get to be so smart?"

He winked at her. "Well, I am practically ancient, after all."

She laughed. "Okay, okay. You win."

They reached the house and Steve went through the back door, while Natasha hung back a moment to catch one last glimpse of the darkening sky. She knew what she wanted to do, how to proceed from here on out. And while she wasn't sure if it would work out, she **was** sure that she was finally ready to try.

~*~ To be continued


	11. Chapter 11

**"Walking down this rocky road,**  
 **Wondering where my life is leading.**  
 **Rolling on to the bitter end,**  
 **Finding out along the way,**  
 **What it takes to keep love living.**  
 **You should know how it feels, my friend;**

 **Ooh, I want you to stay**  
 **Ooh, I want you today**

 **I'm ready for love**  
 **Oh baby, I'm ready for love**  
 **Ready for love**  
 **Oh baby, I'm ready for love**

 **Now I'm on my feet again.**  
 **Better things are bound to happen.**  
 **All my dues surely must be paid.**  
 **Many miles and many tears,**  
 **Times were hard but now they're changing.**  
 **You should know that I'm not afraid.**

 **Ooh, I want you to stay**  
 **Ooh, I want you today**

 **I'm ready for love**  
 **Oh baby, I'm ready for love**  
 **I'm ready for love**  
 **Oh baby, I'm ready for love**

 **Oh, for your love"**

 **(Bad Company-I'm Ready for Love)**

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Rebecca walked down the stairs on her way to the kitchen. She had waited a little while after Clint and Natasha had left, leaning with her back against the wall and her eyes shut, willingly trying to slow her racing heart a bit. She needed a few minutes to gather her thoughts together before making her way back to the group, especially since she was fairly certain that she was still blushing like crazy. The situation that had just taken place in the bathroom had caused her heart to race uncontrollably and she wanted to make sure she was as calm and collected as possible before facing Natasha again.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, running her fingers over the wooden bannister thoughtfully. Now that her mind was a bit more clear and focused she was slowly beginning to realize that even though she should probably be feeling mortified, she didn't feel that way at all. She actually felt empowered. What had happened was no accident. Natasha had known _exactly_ what she was doing, the little tease. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she thought of how easily the other woman had backed her into a corner. So it was obvious that Natasha must have at least some inkling as to how Rebecca felt towards her, hence the performance earlier. So either that knowledge didn't bother her, or...or she felt the same way.

She trembled, remembering the way Natasha's body had moved as she was changing, Could it be possible? Was she just flirting with her, or was she trying to let her know, in her own not very subtle way, that her feelings were reciprocated? _Enough of this_ ,Rebecca thought, suddenly becoming exasperated with herself. She was tired of driving herself crazy and going back and forth in her mind trying to figure out how Natasha felt about her. Everything would be so much easier of course if she had the courage to come right out and just ask her. But that wasn't her style. Surprisingly enough, she had a much easier time telling men how she felt about them. When it came to telling other women however, she ended up being tongue tied and usually felt as awkward as a teenage boy. It was just the way she was wired. And it was especially that way with Natasha. While she was much more comfortable around her in general, and loved spending time with her, any time she even remotely thought of how much she was starting to care for her made her feel as if she was tied up in knots; unable to move, breathe, or speak. But no matter. From this point on, she was going to keep herself from being too overly worried about it. _You're going to stop obsessing over this and just concentrate on having a good time with your friends_ , she told herself firmly.

She breathed out slowly and then inhaled deeply. The scent of basil and marinara wafted in from the kitchen and she felt her mouth start to water in response. She followed the sounds of laughter and talking, walking through the living room to the kitchen.

She was delightfully surprised to see that Pepper had arrived, and the first thing she did when she saw her was to run right up and giver her a hug.

"Pepper!" she exclaimed. "It's go great to see you again, I'm really glad you're here!"

Pepper hugged her back warmly. "It's great to see you again too! How goes the writing?"

"So far so good," Rebecca said. "I've made a lot of progress since the last time we talked."

"That's fantastic!" Pepper said. "When you get a chance, if you don't mind, shoot me over some more of it, I'd love to see where it's going."

Rebecca nodded eagerly. "I don't mind at all, I'd be happy to have you look it over!"

"Come sit down, kitten," Natasha said wryly, "before you get overexcited and pee yourself again."

"What?!" Rebecca exclaimed. "I never-"

Clint snorted. "She **does** look like a kitten when she's really hyped up, doesn't she?"

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest yet again when she was interrupted by the man standing next to Pepper, who she hadn't noticed at first.

"It's not very often that Pepper gets more attention than me right off the bat," he said in a lazy, amused tone of voice.

Instantly Rebecca knew who he was. Even if she hadn't recognized his image from seeing it on countless newspapers and magazine covers, his mannerisms would have been a clear giveaway. The man just oozed confidence and charm. She grinned and replied, "You must be the infamous Tony Stark."

"And you must be Rebecca, our new resident author. I've heard good things about you from my better half. But...wait." He raised an eyebrow. "Infamous? I believe the word you're looking for is famous. Or handsome. Or brilliant. Any of the above would do, actually."

Pepper rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Oh for heavens sake, Tony," she said.

"Actually, I think the word you're looking for is sickening," quipped Sam.

"Well, pompous works pretty well too," Clint said. He was already sitting at the table, his arms crossed.

"Wow," said Tony as he looked around. "A lot of hate for a man who comes bearing gifts." He lifted up the box he had set on the table and opened it extravagantly. Inside was a huge sheet cake. It had white icing, and was decorated with American Flags and red, white, and blue flourishes. Across the center, 'Happy Birthday Cap' was lettered in blue icing.

"Wow, Tony," said Natasha. "That was actually really nice of you."

Steve looked immensely touched. "Tony...thank you."

"Wait, today is Steve's birthday?" Rebecca asked.

"Tomorrow, actually, "Steve replied.

"Shares a birthday with our country," Tony said, pointing at Steve. "Thought we wouldn't notice, but we did."

"That's why we got here late," Pepper apologized. "Tony insisted we stop and pick it up."

Laura came up to hug her. "You're not late at all, you guys are just in time. Come grab a seat, I'm just getting ready to bring everything out."

"Do you think Laura will have enough candles to put on it?" Natasha said teasingly to Steve as the rest of them sat down. "It might violate some kind of fire hazard to have that many candles on one cake."

Laura had made a huge serving of pasta putanesca, with a large salad and warm, crusty bread. They passed the food around, and then passed the wine around; and the atmosphere was light with laughter and joking and shared conversation. The kids, having eaten quickly and growing bored with the adults, had went off to play video games. Laura took Nathanial from the table and left the company briefly to get him cleaned up and ready for bed. Rebecca felt slightly sorry for Vision at the beginning of the meal, since he couldn't eat or drink anything. But the animated way he talked with Tony, Pepper, and Wanda made her realize that while he may not consume food, he was enjoying himself immensely. After the meal was done, Tony insisted that they bring out the cake right that very minute rather than waiting until the following day. When they protested, he argued that the cake was from Lorringers, one of the best bakeries in the city, and that it wouldn't taste nearly as good a day later. Steve didn't protest too much, since he had brought an apple pie for them to eat at the cookout tomorrow anyway. So with exaggerated flourish that Rebecca was beginning to suspect accompanied Tony on everything he did, he cut the cake for everyone, as they all watched in an amused fashion.

Rebecca sat between Clint and Natasha. Natasha laid a hand on her thigh, casually, as if to let her know she was there. Clint rested his elbow on her shoulder as he helped himself to a generous slice of cake. Both of them exuded such a strong, comforting pressure on her; like an anchor steadying her and making her aware of the knowledge that everything was okay. She looked across the table at Wanda and saw her smiling warmly at her and she knew that Wanda understood exactly what she was feeling. Half dazed, lightheaded. Wrapped up in warmth and happiness. Like a stray dog hungry for affection, Rebecca felt a profound shift in allegiance to these people. A blood-deep, sudden, almost humiliating, eye-watering conviction of, _this place is good, these people are safe. I can trust them, nobody will hurt me here._

The wine and a full belly was making her slightly sleepy. As she listened to the Avengers talk and joke with one another around the table, she watched them tenderly, just reveling in the fact that she got to hear so many interesting stories. Her ears perked up however when she heard Natasha's name. Tony was relating an incident where the Widow had shot him with her Widow's Bite after he accidently walked in on her in the shower, when they were all at the old Avenger's Tower.

"Widow's Bite?" she asked the woman next to her. "What's that?"

Natasha turned to look at her. "It's an electro-static energy blast that I can emit from the bracelets on my uniform. Soviet issue, obviously. They can send a charge of up to thirty thousand volts."

Rebecca whistled, impressed.

"Hurts like a bitch, I'll tell you that much," Clint said as he winced at some memory where he had been on the receiving end of the weapon.

"Wait a second," Rebecca said. "I thought that was called your Widow's Kiss?"

Natasha shook her head. "Same bracelet. Different weapon. The Kiss is a form of knock-out gas that I modified."

Unable to stop herself, Rebecca started giggling.

Natasha stared while Clint chuckled. "Wow, Nat. That's definitely the first time I've ever seen anyone actually _laugh_ while talking about your weapons. Usually people scream and run for cover."

"No, no," Rebecca said, still giggling. "It's not that." _It must be the wine_ , she thought. _I'm not normally this brave._ "It's just that...it's kind of funny, you know? Bite? Kiss? It just sounds like you might have a bit of an oral fixation."

The table was completely quiet. Rebecca hadn't noticed how loudly they had been talking.

Suddenly Clint burst into laughter and Steve said, "She's got you there, Romanoff."

Rebecca blushed fiercely as the rest of the company laughed good naturedly. As their conversations turned back to other things she tried to focus on anything but the woman next to her. She could feel her intense gaze on her. After a minute or so of agony she turned her eyes to Natasha.

The expression on her face was one she hadn't seen her give before. Her eyes were dark with...was it desire? She looked as if she wanted to climb into her lap and either tear into her or tear her clothes off...or maybe both. And that gaze was fixated exclusively on her. Rebecca felt her heart stop, and then start again at a pace that could match a galloping racehorse. _Holy shit,_ she thought wildly. She was sure she must have the most idiotic look on her own face. And she couldn't be one hundred percent sure that she wasn't drooling.

Casually Natasha leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Kitten, I'm taking that as an invitation to demonstrate the truth of that last statement of yours." She slid her hand up slightly higher on her thigh and squeezed lightly.

Rebecca closed her eyes, dizzy with heat and desire. _I'm going to pass out, right here and now,_ she thought. She was so turned on she thought she might just catch on fire right there at the table.

Wanda got up so quickly she almost knocked over her chair. "Anyone need some more wine?" she asked as she swiftly walked to the kitchen.

"Nope! No more wine for me!" Rebecca said. "Although...could I possibly get a glass of water? With ice? Lots of ice."

...

The rest of the meal passed without incident. Her and Natasha had settled into an easy and playful banter throughout the rest of the evening. The tension between them that had spiked during dinner and desert had ebbed to a more manageable level. It was still there, simmering just below the surface, but at least it wasn't at the all-consuming-wildfire level that it had been at earlier. While a few of the companions had gone to get cleaned up, the rest of the group decided to play a few games of cards around nine o'clock. Rebecca politely declined their offer to join them and instead opted to head up to the loft and start the new book she had brought with her. Not that she didn't want to spend as much time as possible with everyone, but she was tired and feeling a tad overwhelmed by everything that had happened since she arrived, and figured she was a bit overdue for some quiet time.

"You're missing out," Tony scolded her as she started to leave the room. "We're going to crack open another bottle of wine and probably play some strip poker. Once in a lifetime opportunity here to see me out of my clothes."

"Oh who are you kidding, Tony," laughed Sam. "You jump at every and any chance to be nude in public."

"I can recall two separate instances just last week where this was the case," Vision confirmed.

Rebecca bit back a laugh. "Thanks Tony, but I think I'll take my chances. I'll see you guys in the morning."

They all bid her goodnight and with Natasha's eyes following her she left the room.

...

Once she got into the loft she got changed into her pajamas, which were just gray cotton shorts and a black tank top. Pulling her hair out of her ponytail she took a few minutes brushing out any remaining snarls and tangles that remained, while she looked out the window. She could hear the lazy thrum of the cicadas in the tall grass and the slight rustle of a summer night's breeze. She was used to the compound which was well lit and always had lights on outside, no matter how late the hour. Even her apartment building in New Jersey was kept illuminated all the time. She was just used to seeing everything lit up. But here...the only light she could see past the farmhouse was from the occasional flicker of lightning bugs, and the moon and stars. The tops of the trees were eerily beautiful, an almost silvery-green hue from nighttime luminescence. She shivered, involuntarily as she looked out at the open fields and surrounding forest. Despite the darkness it was serene, peaceful. _I could disappear here_ , she thought. _I could stay here and no one would ever find me._ She smiled. She often had thoughts that ran this way. Whenever she was anyplace new, away from her previous existence, at one point or another she would briefly contemplate what it would be like to flee her old life and start over. She wondered if she would ever reach the point where she would have the courage to take that next step. To say, _fuck it_ once and for all, and just start over. Clean slate.

She pulled her book out of her bag and, propping up the pillows behind her against the headboard, slid underneath the covers. It was a rather small bed. When Natasha came to bed...she pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel the image of just how well the other woman would fit next to her in this tiny bed. She wondered if she would remember her comment from earlier. Deep down she was beginning to hope she did. She had been wanting to read the novel she brought for quite some time, and she fell happily into the familiar pool of delight that accompanied a really good book. She could hear the sounds of loud boisterous conversation from downstairs and she smiled. It should have been distracting, but it really wasn't. It was comforting. After a while, the combination of a full stomach, the haziness from the wine, and the warmth from her heart finally caught up with her. The last thing she remembered before dozing off was the sound of Natasha's laughter drifting up from downstairs, like a balm to her very being.

~*~ To be continued


	12. Chapter 12

She woke with a start, and for a brief disorienting moment she wasn't sure where she was. The room was dark; moonlight splayed across the covers of the bed she was in. And silent. Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears as she struggled to remember. It came back to her in a split second; the remembrance of laughter and her friends and the farmhouse grounding her to reality rather than the fragmented remnants of sleep that clung to her. Exhaling sharply she sat up in bed and grabbed her phone of the nightstand next to the bed to check the time. One thirty in the morning. That would explain the silence. Everyone had probably already gone to bed. And someone must have turned her light off. But where... she looked around the room. Where was Natasha? Why wasn't she in bed?

Since she was already wide awake she figured she might as well make some tea. She got up and picked up her book which she must have dropped to the floor in her sleep, laying it on the bed. She padded out into the hallway and walked downstairs. The rooms were all dark, but the nightlight on the wall afforded her enough to light to maneuver around until she got to the kitchen and flipped the switch. After retrieving the teakettle and a mug from the cupboard, she decided to sit out on the front porch while waiting for the water to boil. She slipped out the front door and closed it behind her as softly as possible, to keep from waking anyone. As she turned around she let out a little yelp when she discovered she wasn't alone.

Natasha was sitting on the porch swing, one leg tucked underneath her. She was wearing a white tank top and pale pink shorts. Rebecca couldn't remember ever seeing her wear that color before, and something about it made her heart flutter a little.

"Hey," the other woman said as she smiled softly.

"Hey." Rebecca said back, feeling slightly dizzy.

It was extraordinary-she couldn't seem to focus on anything else around her, aside from Natasha. It always was like this when she was alone with her, Natasha simply overrode everything: her skin, her eyes, her rusty voice, flame-colored hair and a tilt to her head that sometimes gave her a look like she was humming to herself. The moonlight on the porch was all mixed up with the light of her presence, with freshness and beauty and the hint of a promise.

"I have some water boiling," Rebecca said feeling like she was the lamest person on the planet. "I'm making some tea, would you like some?"

Natasha nodded. "That'd be great. Thanks."

She went back inside and poured the hot water into two mugs. She added honey to both and carried them back outside. Natasha had slid over to give her room and Rebecca sat down next to her on the swing. They sat that way for a while, neither one speaking, just sipping their tea and enjoying the evening and each others company. A warm and comforting feeling stole over Rebecca as they sat there together. It felt sort of like slipping into a warm bath after a chilly autumn day. It was odd. Natasha was the only person she had ever met where it seemed their silences together were just as enjoyable as their conversations. It was almost like being with herself, another part of her that been missing without her even knowing it, rather than being with another person.

"Do you come here often?" Rebecca asked her, breaking the silence. "To the farmhouse I mean."

"Yeah," she replied. "I used to come and stay for weekends, after missions. The kids and I would have picnics and pirate fights and all kinds of other adventures." She smiled at the recollection. "It's especially great now that the rest of the team knows about Clint's family. I can come here without having to hide it."

"I would think that being...in your line of work that you would be used to that sort of thing. Stealth. Secrets."

"Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean that I necessarily _like_ it," she said.

"Do you ever think about...you know, retiring?" Rebecca asked her tentatively.

Natasha thought about it. "I suppose in theory I could," she said. "But this is what I was trained to do, what I was **raised** to do. I've been doing it my whole life."

"Sure," Rebecca said. "But that doesn't mean you're trapped. You have your whole life ahead of you, you could do anything you want."

Natasha snorted. "Like what? Being a teacher? A doctor? Working at a hot dog stand?"

"If that's what you want," Rebecca replied seriously. "Nat, you are one of the most intelligent and capable people I have ever met. You could literally do anything you set your mind to. Don't...don't you know that?"

She could tell from her expression that she _didn't_ know that. She was looking at her with an expression that Rebecca could not quite place. Intense and disbelieving.

"Uh..." Rebecca stammered, suddenly extremely self conscious. _Did I say something wrong?_ she wondered.

Natasha stood up from the swing and walked a few steps forward, resting her hands on the porch railing. "It's funny," she said. "Most people look at me, and once they learn who I am, you can actually see the intimidation in their eyes. The fear. The awe."

"Well, most people are idiots," Rebecca scoffed, as she got up and went to stand next to her. "Anyone who knows you for more than five seconds knows that you're so much more than that."

"That's it exactly, Becks," she said softly with a wry smile. "Most people don't bother to look below the surface. Especially once they learn who I am. What I've done."

"And again, like I said, most people are idiots. That's their problem, not yours. If they don't want to take the time to get to know you, then that's their loss."

Natasha continued on as if she hadn't heard her. "But you...you don't do that. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're skittish as hell when you're near me." At this she grinned. "But you don't look at me the way other people do. When you look at me, you look at me like..." she trailed off.

 _Like I'm a lovesick moron? Like you're the only person in the world I want to be looking at?_ "Wait a minute," Rebecca said shyly. Skittish? I'm skittish around you?"

"Well maybe skittish isn't the right description," Natasha said. "But you know what you remind me of when you're around me?"

Rebecca didn't answer.

"You remind me of prey, which honestly makes me want to chase you down until you're at my complete mercy," she said as she took a step toward her. As she did Rebecca involuntarily took a step back.

Natasha laughed softly. "See? You don't even realize you're doing it. Your pupils dilate, your breathing increases, and you try to create space between us. I really affect you that strongly, kitten?"

Rebecca thought she was choking on her heart, which seemed to have suddenly risen up into her throat. "I'm not afraid of you," she said. "You make it sound like I'm **afraid** of you. I'm not."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

"Well," Rebecca amended, "I'm not afraid of **you**. Not exactly." She took a deep breath. "But I am afraid of the way you make me feel," she admitted.

There was a pause, and then Natasha asked, "And how do I make you feel?"

There was something in her voice that Rebecca couldn't remember ever hearing before. It was soft and tentative and her question almost sounded like a plea. As if something very important was hitched on this question. It nearly broke Rebecca's heart. For once Rebecca was at a loss for words. She, the wordsmith, had been rendered mute by this woman. This wonderful, mysterious, incredible woman. So for the first time in probably forever, Rebecca stopped listening to her fears and doubts and just went with her heart.

She closed the distance between them, and slowly ran the back of her fingers along Natasha's cheek. Natasha closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.

Rebecca wrapped her arms around her and kissed her; and all the blood rushed from her head, a long sweep, like she was falling off a cliff. Natasha's lips were warm and soft against hers. Seeking. Their mouths brushed, retreated, then brushed again. Natasha parted her lips and Rebecca deftly slid her tongue into her mouth. A soft, fluid ache filled her limbs at the sensation of their tongues intertwining. The taste of her slid through her system like a drug. Complete and utter intoxication. It felt like everything she was and had been was unraveling, unwinding, in the presence of this woman. She was being disassembled and the last coherent thought she had was that it felt like coming home. She could smell the scent of jasmine in her hair, and felt the heat pouring off her body into hers. Every single part of her own body seemed to throb with the heady desire of how much she wanted this woman. How much she needed her. She felt herself shiver in anticipation.

"Relax, Kotkyu," Natasha whispered breathlessly in between kisses. "I won't hurt you."

At the command Rebecca felt her body involuntarily release all last traces of tension that she hadn't even been aware were still in her. When her mouth met hers again, she poured all she had into the kiss. The silky dance of tongues, the teasing nip of teeth, the edgy thrill of feeling a heart pound against her own. She felt Natasha smile against her lips as she slid one arm around her waist, pulling her even closer, the other hand lost in her waves and waves of hair. She let out a moan as the red haired woman bit her lower lip, than ran her tongue over it softly. Desire shot through her, hot and welcome. She slid a hand along the bottom of her tank top, running a finger against the bare skin underneath it, thrilling at the feel of her hand against her soft, white skin. In the moonlight her body seemed unearthly; glimmering marble erotically hot to the touch.

Natasha took a step back, sitting back on the porch swing and pulling Rebecca into her lap. Rebecca wrapped her legs around her waist so that she was straddling her. She was breathless, weightless. Natasha smiled at her. Her eyes were dark, filled with trust and pleasure. Rebecca leaned forward and kissed her again, while Natasha ran her hands underneath her tank top, her fingers dancing and squeezing along her back. She ran her fingers through that fiery red hair, hair that she had wanted to touch since the first time she laid eyes on her. She bit her ear, trailing down the side of her neck with her mouth, leaving a pattern of soft kisses against her skin, and reveled in the way Natasha trembled against her.

A sudden and harsh creak ripped them out of their reverie. They both looked up and looked at the hook that the swing was attached to.

"We are in very real danger of breaking this porch swing," Rebecca said, stifling a giggle.

"Laura will kill us," Natasha said. "Literally kill us."

Rebecca let one more kiss linger on Natasha's lips before regretfully sliding off her lap and sitting next to her.

"That was..."

"Yeah..."

"I've wanted to do that..."

"For so long? Me to..."

"I didn't want to stop. I don't _ever_ want to stop."

"Me either."

Natasha reached over and found Rebecca's hand. She intertwined their fingers together and Rebecca felt a dollop of warmth spin through her heart, like a pearl falling through liquid gold.

"We could always go upstairs?" Natasha said mischievously.

Rebecca thought of the house full of all their friends and grimaced. "As...must as I want to say yes to that..."

Natasha saw the expression on her face and laughed out loud. "Way too many people in the house?" she teased.

"Yes, exactly," Rebecca said, relieved.

"Well don't worry, kitten," Natasha said, patting her thigh. "There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rebecca felt as if her heart was so light it might float away on the night breeze. "You're not?"

She looked at her and squeezed her hand. "No. Are you?"

"Of course not," Rebecca said with relief. "We've got all the time in the world."

"All the time in the world," Natasha agreed with a smile.

"What does...um...kotkoo mean?" Rebecca asked, suddenly remembering what she had called her earlier.

Natasha looked at her blankly for a moment. "Oh, you mean Kotkyu? It's kitten in Russian."

Rebecca bit her lip. "You're unbelievably adorable."

The other woman rolled her eyes playfully. "Please keep that little known fact to yourself please, the last thing I need is Barton running around saying that I'm adorable."

Rebecca laughed and laid her head on Natasha's shoulder. They sat there for a little while, Natasha pushing the swing slowly with one foot as the night wind ruffled both of their hair, listening to the steady chirp of the crickets.

"Tell me something true," Rebecca said quietly. "About yourself. Something not a lot of people know."

Silence, and then, "My name isn't really Natasha."

"What?" Whatever Rebecca had been expecting, it wasn't that. "What's your real name?"

"Natalia. Natalia Alianovna Romanova."

"Wow. That's a mouthful. Why...does everyone call you Natasha then?"

She shrugged. "It was the first name I used when I joined Shield, and over time all of my friends knew me by that name and called me by that name so it just...sort of stuck. It's the one I like best." She looked at Rebecca, waiting for her opinion on the matter.

Rebecca leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I like them both. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet, as Shakespeare would say."

Natasha grinned and pulled her over so that they were mouth to mouth, a whisper's distance between them. "Now who's the adorable one?"

...

Sleeping next to Natasha was amazingly comfortable. It was actually quite surprising. She had thought that after their heated exchange sleep would be the last thing on either of their minds. But it seemed that since they had decided to wait until they had a bit more privacy before they moved...forward in their relationship physically, they were both content to just be in each others presence. There was a brief moment of panic when Natasha got into bed alongside her, facing the other direction. What was she supposed to do? She didn't want to overstep any boundaries. But then Natasha had reached back and pulled her close so that she was right up against her back, and pulled her arm around her waist, intertwining their hands. _How have I lived my whole life without this?_ she thought. _How have I lived all these years without her?_

She did wake once, in early hours of the morning, caught in the throes of a panic attack that had somehow sunk its tendrils into her while she was sleeping. Natasha caught her as she sat up terrified from the bed, pulling her back down in the covers beside her, murmuring to her in Russian, her voice throaty and strange with sleep.

...

The sunlight streaming across the bed through the slits in the blinds were what woke her. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking next to her in the bed. Natasha must have gotten up earlier, there was an indent on the bed where she had been laying. She ran her hand across it and all that had happened the night before came tumbling back to her like an avalanche.

She smiled. It was a beautiful morning. It was the absolute **best** morning.

She met Clint in the hallway and stopped herself from humming right as she saw him. He looked her over in an amused fashion and asked, "Good night?"

She'd never told him how she felt about Natasha, never breathed a word of it, she knew how close the two of them were and was unwilling to make things uncomfortable for him. But he knew; and even if he hadn't, it would have been perfectly visible to him (or any stranger walking in off the street) that she practically had sparks flying out of her head.

She could have denied it, she wasn't even sure if this thing (whatever it was) with Natasha was something she was supposed to keep secret, she hadn't thought to ask at the time. But she couldn't help it. She was just too stupidly happy. She grinned and replied, "Oh yes. It was a **great** night."

He chuckled and tugged her ponytail playfully. "Good to hear, chickadee."

She continued down the hallway and she could have sworn she heard him say under his breath, "About time, too."

...

When she got down to the kitchen she saw that Natasha and Steve were already at the table, having coffee. Natasha raised her eyes to her when she walked in the room.

"Good morning," she said with a smile just for her.

"Good morning," Rebecca replied, unable to keep the joy from bubbling up in her chest. Somehow, incredibly, this woman liked _her_. She knew she was grinning like an idiot but she couldn't seem to stop.

Steve looked at the both of them and hid a smile as he took a sip of coffee.

...

Clint made pancakes for them all; huge piles of blueberry and chocolate chip, banana and sweet potato. Rebecca had never seen so many pancakes in her life. She thought Sam's eyes were going to pop out of his head with joy when the platters appeared. She had seen the way he had tucked into dinner the night before and knew he was a big fan of large meals. They all insisted on singing Happy Birthday to Steve, which he endured stoically. When Clint came out of the kitchen wearing a striped apron, Tony laughed for a good five minutes straight before Pepper threatened to send him home.

"What's wrong with the apron?" Clint asked incredulously as he gave a little twirl. "Stripes are very manly."

"Of course they are honey," Laura said, hiding a smile as she patted his arm reassuringly.

By the time they were all done lingering at the table it was close to noon. After everyone helped clean up, Steve and Sam went off to take a run and Natasha took the kids outside to play. Rebecca, Wanda, and Vision helped Laura in the kitchen while she got a lot of the food prepared. Most of the main part of the barbeque was what Clint planned to cook on the grill; hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken, and sweet sausage. But there were still the salads to make, macaroni, broccoli, and potato. As well as the baked beans and macaroni and cheese. And the pies, oh the pies! There was the apple pie that Steve had brought with him. He hadn't said who made it for him but how lovingly it seemed to have been made and the brightness in Steve's eyes when he mentioned it led Rebecca to believe it was given to him by someone very special indeed. In addition to that, Laura had wanted to do at least another two pies, lemon and blueberry. Rebecca couldn't remember the last time she had ever willingly particpated in cooking or baking. Most of the time when eating dinner in her apartment she ate take-out food standing up at the counter, rarely even taking the time to sit down at the table. She was more of a going-out-to-eat or eat-on-the-fly sort of girl. So when Wanda had told her they were going to help Laura get everything ready, to say that Rebecca felt some trepidation would be an understatement. But she needn't had worried. Laura was as charming and friendly as ever and once she got out the majority of the ingredients, Vision took over. Apparently he took the upcoming afternoon meal very seriously. He had spent the morning going over Laura's recipes and cookbooks and had each and every thing ready to to be prepared. Laura was delighted to have such a precise and knowledageble helper, and Rebecca and Wanda were relieved to have someone to give them such accurate directions so what they were making didn't turn out to be catastrophes. After a little while they got into the flow of measuring and mixing, setting the oven and listening for the soft ding of the timer going off. Vision grimaced when Rebecca and Wanda licked the mixing spoons before washing them, but smiled widely when Wanda sprinkled flour in his face. Rebecca wished she could freeze this moment and keep it forever unchanged in her heart. These last few days were, without a doubt, the best she had ever experienced.

As the afternoon wore on, Clint enlisted the guys to clean off a few large tables and chairs and set them up in the backyard. As Pepper aid out checkered tableclothes she looked up at the sky quizzically and asked, "It wasn't supposed to rain today, was it?"

They all looked up and saw clouds beginning to swirl above them, high up in the sky.

"That's not a storm," Steve said casually as the clouds began to darken. Quick, bright flashes of lightning peppered the densest section of the clouds.

Rebecca looked at Natasha, who had come over to stand next to her. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked excitedly.

Natasha looked up. "Seems like it. I'm pretty impressed, I didn't think Thor would show. I really wasn't sure if celebrating Earth holidays was something he would be down for."

Mouth gaping, Rebecca stared as a funnel of light blew downwards from the clouds and hit the earth with a resounding CRACK. There was a puff of smoke, a patch of scorched grass, and in the middle of where the funnel had been stood a massive, long-haired blonde man, with two pretty brunettes clinging to each arm. "Friends!" he cried out in a booming voice. "I have decided to attend your revels in celebration of your country's freedom!"

Everyone walked over to the Prince of Asgard to either shake his hand, hug him, and issue general greetings and well wishes. The women with him were famous astronomer Jane Foster, which excited Rebecca to no end, since she had read several of her papers a few years back and was wildly impressed with her work, and her assistant and friend, Darcy Lewis. As Jane told it, Thor had taken them to Asgard and they were helping him on his quest to find more information on the Infinity Stones (which made absolutely no sense to Rebecca but she figured it sounded pretty important.) They had been in the middle of research when Thor had casually told them how he had been invited back to the farmhouse for the barbeque.

"I told him we really should come," Jane said, looking at Thor fondly. "Of course what we're doing is important, but so is family and friendship."

"Also, you know, hot dogs." Darcy chimed in.

Natasha had to practically drag Rebecca over to introduce her to Thor and the others. She was more intimidated by him than the rest of the Avengers put together. She had taken a few mythology course in college, and seeing a person she had read about as a 'god' in textbooks was a little unnerving. But he was as nice as could be, and surprisingly sweet. Even agreeing to eventually sit down for a couple of interviews for her book.

By this time Clint had fired up the grill and (once more donning his striped apron) started cooking all the meats while everyone tucked into the salads and baked beans and macaroni and cheese. Tony had dragged two coolers out and had them filled with beer and wine coolers. Rebecca had kept the seat next to her open, hoping that Natasha would sit next to her. Her hopes were rewarded when the red haired woman appeared, carrying a few beers and setting two in front of her and keeping two for herself.

"Thanks," Rebecca said as she popped the cap off of one and took a cold swig.

"Don't mention it," Natasha said innocently. "My goal is to get enough alcohol in you that you might forget all the people who are staying in the house tonight when we go to bed."

Rebecca choked suddenly, spurting out beer between her fingers as she put her hand against her mouth.

It was an amazing evening. There were so many people there, even more than Clint had expected, so the sound of conversation and laughter echoed across the backyard like a symphony. Rebecca wasn't sure if it was the beer or her elated mind state, but the food was the best she had ever tasted. She had a hotdog, a sweet sausage sandwich, and a generous helping of macaroni and cheese. By the time the pies were passed around, everyone was mildly and happily buzzed (all except for Steve, who still lamented not being able to get intoxicated, much to the delight of the others). As it was getting dark, they started taking shots at the leftover watermelons, betting which of them could destroy them the most effectively. Wanda lifted them laughingly with her powers. The first one Clint shot with three arrows. The second one Steve tore open with his bare hands, and it seemed he was the winner until Thor called down lightning through Mjolnir and made it explode. No one seemed willing to go after that performance.

As they were finishing up, and darkness spread across the sky, Tony stood up and, stretching, promised them one last surprise. He ran out to the barn and returned with a carton of fireworks that he had been hiding out there since he arrived. The kids were almost out of their mind with excitement. They spread down old blankets from the house and watched as Steve set them off. Bursts of pink, green, and yellow filled the sky, as they crackled and popped. Natasha sat with her legs spread apart, and pulled Rebecca into her lap. Happily, Rebecca leaned back into her as the other woman wrapped her arms around her.

It was the best Fourth of July she had ever experienced.

...

"Do we even have to go back?" Clint complained as he wearily got behind the pilots seat in the QuinJet the following morning.

"Hey!" Sam cut in. "You're the fool that got us up at the asscrack of dawn to head back!"

They had all stayed up late, drinking and talking outside while they watched the soft glow of the fireflies flick on and off. It seemed like they had only had a couple of hours of sleep before Clint had roused them all and told them it was time to head back to the compound.

Despite Natasha's earlier hinting they had both been too tired to do anything more than kiss each other sleepily as they fell asleep in each others arms. But Rebecca wasn't worried. Like Natasha had said, they had all the time in the world. Sitting next to her once more, this time holding hands, Rebecca marveled at how much had changed in such a short time. She was still unsure of where this relationship was going, what their boundaries were. But for once, she wasn't worried. For the first time in her life, it felt as if things were finally going in her favor.

...

Maria was waiting for them at the front entrance when they got back.

"Shit," Clint said. "I know that look, something's up."

"Hope you all had fun," she said as they reached her side. "But I have to admit, I'm glad you're back."

"Is everything alright?" Steve asked with alarm.

"Everything's fine," she assured them. "At least, I think it is. Bruce Banner is back."

~*~ To be continued


	13. Chapter 13

**Just wanted to once again thank everyone for following/favoriting my story, and for all the wonderful reviews! You guys are the absolute BEST! :) The next couple chapters are going to be a bit shorter, but they will be leading up to the next big story arc, which is going to be pretty hefty. Hope you all enjoy it! :)**

For a moment, in her sleep deprived state, she couldn't figure out who Maria was talking about. And then in a jumble of fragmented thoughts, _gamma rays, Banner, the Hulk_ , she realized just who Bruce was. She felt a shiver of excitement. Finally she would be able to interview the Hulk! She had been looking forward to doing so ever since she had arrived at the compound and had been initially dismayed to learn that he had been away for some time. In all honesty, watching the news footage of his most recent actions and the public backlash that ensued was one of the things that had jump started the idea in her brain and got her thinking about how she could use her writing in order to help promote the Avenger's cause. She smiled to herself. She had planned on telling him that when she finally got the chance to sit down and talk with him. That he was a big part of the reason why she was here today. And now it looked like she might be getting her chance soon.

She looked over at Natasha to tell her when she stopped dead in her tracks, her blood suddenly turning to ice in her veins. The other woman's body had gone completely still at Maria's pronouncement, all the color draining from her face. The relaxed manner in which she had been carrying herself was gone, her mannerisms suddenly were guarded and tense. She looked as rigid and cold as a piece of glass.

Rebecca stole a quick glance at Clint, and saw that he too was looking at Natasha, his brow furrowed with concern. She was completely perplexed. What on Earth was going on? Something was obviously wrong, something that had gone right over her head, and it had everything to do with Bruce's return. She longed to reach over and take Natasha's hand, just to reassure her that she was there for her, no matter what the problem was. But she was still uneasy about stepping over her boundaries, especially with so many of her teammates and colleagues around. While she wrestled with indecision, Natasha seemingly snapped out of it, her lifelong skills of subterfuge taking over. Her body seemed to relax slightly, the tension slowly leaving her posture.

"When did he get here?" she asked calmly.

"Late last night," Maria said. "He talked with me briefly, and then went right to his quarters. I set him up in one of the empty rooms in your guys section of the compound."

Steve asked, "Did he say where he's been? What he's been doing?"

Shaking her head Maria replied, "No, he didn't. He seemed pretty beat, to be honest, and I didn't want to...push him until you guys got back. I figured you would want to speak with him."

Steve nodded, lost in thought.

"Did Bruce seem...overly stressed? Ready to, you know...smash?" Clint asked nervously.

Maria smiled. "Not very, Barton, no," she replied. "More tired than anything else, I would say."

"Well that's a relief, at least," he said, grimacing slightly.

"I'll give him a few more hours to rest," Steve said. "And then I'll go talk to him."

Maria nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that. Do you need me there as well?"

"Yes, if you don't mind." He looked over to where Natasha and Rebecca were standing. "Nat, I'd like for you to come along too."

"Of course," she replied. There was no sign in her voice that there was anything wrong. But despite how well she hid it, Rebecca could tell there was something still bothering her.

The rest of the companians dispersed, Natasha following Steve down the hallway without so much as a goodbye or a backwards glance.

Rebecca's throat tightened. This wasn't like Natasha _at all_. But she knew she shouldn't take it personally. They were back at the compound, everyone had jobs to do, work that needed to get done. Including herself. And she wasn't even an Avenger, or a Shield employee. She hadn't gotten any writing done while they were all at the farm, and she felt the absence of her work keenly. She was looking forward to jumping back into her project. And it wasn't as if she expected to be hanging on Natasha's arm all the time like some kind of asinine schoolgirl. And yet...she watched Natasha walk down the corrider with Steve. _Something_ was going on, and it had to do with Bruce.

Rebecca suddenly had the feeling that she was somehow, inexplicably out of her depth.

...

After grabbing a quick lunch with Wanda, Rebecca headed back up to her room to try and get some writing done. Usually whenever she was upset or worried, she could dive into her writing and get lost in a story, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. But for some reason it was harder than normal. Whenever she would get more than a few words or sentences in, thoughts of their time together at the farm would push their way into the forefront of her mind, and she would become distracted. She just couldn't stop thinking about that night on the porch. Their conversation. The swing. The _kissing_. She shook her head. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She needed to start acting like one and less like some lovesick fool. The word lovesick however stuck in her brain like a piece of melted taffy. Lovesick. What that what this was? This terrible yearning mixed with a giddy sense of lightheadedness that wasn't unlike being intoxicated. It had been so long since she had been in a relationship, yet even despite that, this still felt quite different than anything she was used to, even when she dated with pure abandon and carelessness. It felt more _important_ somehow.

She thought of the look on Natasha's face earlier, when Maria had told them Bruce was back. She was still worried. It had only been for a few seconds, before Natasha had covered it up, but her unsettled initial reaction was what had stayed with Rebecca. She was worried about her.

Rebecca rubbed her arm absentmindedly and thought about how Natasha had confided to her of her true name. Natalia. Natalia Alianovna Romanova. The words has a comforting sound, like a breeze on a warm summer day. _Natalia_. She could almost taste it on her tongue, that round sweet word: smooth and hard, and pure white like a peppermint.

She ran her hand over her eyes and shut her laptop. There was no use trying to concentrate when she was this distracted anyway. It was obvious she wasn't going to be able to get any work done until she cleared this up. She got up and decided to check on Natasha herself.

...

But it looked as if Natasha wasn't in her room. She stood self-consciously in the hallway after knocking, waiting for the familiar lock mechanism of the door engaging and seeing Natasha's cheeky grin as she opened the door for her. Silence. She knocked again, tentatively. When she got no response she decided to go for a walk, maybe try to burn off some of her worry with exercise. As she turned around she stumbled into Clint, who was coming down the hallway.

"Hey little chickadee!" he said, brightly. "What are you doing up here?"

He followed her gaze to Natasha's door and laughed. "Up for a visit huh? Is she not home?"

She shook her head wordlessly.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful. "Come with me."

She followed him a little farther down the hallway to his quarters. He opened the door for her, and she was surprised by the clutter in his room. Weapon magazines were piled up by his bed, clothes were strewn haphazardly across the tops of chars, and he was collecting quite a collection of empty coffee mugs on his table.

Rebecca blinked. "Why do I think Laura would kill you if she could see this place?"

He scoffed. "Who has time for straightening up? I'm a busy guy. You want something to drink?"

"Sure," she said as he handed her a beer and took one for himself. "Wait," she asked with a laugh. "You seriously have your own mini fridge in here?" It looked like one of those tiny cube fridges so commonly found in college dorms.

"Of course!" he said. "How else do you expect to keep beer around here unless you hide it?"

He sat down on the bed and gestured for her to sit next to him. "So what's up?" he asked her kindly. "You seem a bit stressed."

Rebecca wished she had one tenth of the training he and Natasha had, so she could for once in her life hide her feelings. She must have been so transparent to someone like him. She shrugged. "I was just worried about Natasha. The way she acted when Maria told us about Bruce, well, it was really weird. She sort of froze up, like it really upset her. Do they not get along or something?"

She looked at Clint and saw he was looking at her with...what was that expression? Sympathy? "Clint," she asked carefully. "What's going on?"

He sighed and clasped his hands together. "It should be Natasha that tells you this, not me. But maybe it's better for you to know now, so you can stop worrying about her. Bruce and Natasha...were together before he left."

Now _that_ wasn't what she had been expecting. She struggled to form cohesive thoughts. "Together?" she asked weakly.

He nodded. "I honestly don't know how serious it was Becks, she really didn't talk with me about it much. But I do know that she took it pretty hard when he left."

It felt like someone punched her in the stomach. It was hard to catch her breath. Of course it was something like that. She should have expected it. Someone as beautiful and incredible as Natasha, _of course_ she had been in relationships before. Rebecca wasn't an idiot. But for some reason, when she thought of people from Natasha's past, it was always some shadowy, nondescript person from long ago, not a member of her team. Not one of the Avengers. But she **knew** she had been with Clint. Was this really any different? Yes and no. This thing with Bruce, it had been recent. And he had left. If he **hadn't** left, would they still be together? Or worse...was she just a fill in until he **did** come back. She thought of the way Natasha smiled when she looked at her. _No._ She mentally shook her head. _No, that's not true,_ she thought. _What we have is real, it's true. I'm not just some rebound...am I?_

Clint reached over and took her hand. "I can tell what you're thinking, Becks. You're as easy to read as an open book. This isn't why I told you this. I'm not trying to upset you. What I'm trying to tell you is that Nat's with _you_ now. And Bruce coming back isn't going to change that.

But she barely heard him. Her thoughts were coursing through her brain like a runaway train. Maybe that was why Natasha hadn't answered her door when she knocked. Maybe she was with Bruce right now, rekindling whatever it was they had before he left. Black spots danced along the edge of her vision. She thought she was going to be sick.

How could she have even believed for a second that Natasha would want anything to do with her? Of course she would rather be with someone from her team, someone more on the same level as her. She had already had a hard time believing that this woman could honestly like her for who she was, want to be with someone like her. And who was she, Rebecca, anyway? Nobody special. She didn't have any powers, any special talents or abilities. What right did she even have to be here in the first place? She wasn't a hero. She was just...nobody. All her fears and insecurities crash over her like a dark wave. She closed her eyes, felt her pulse pounding in her eyelids.

Clint stood up with her and grabbed her arm, steadying her. "Becks, are you alright? You got really pale all of a sudden."

Rebecca had a hard time answering, She felt slightly numbed, as if she were underwater: the long shadows, the bright light from the lamp on his table, throwing odd patterns against the wall, the breeze washing in the curtains.

"You know that she wouldn't be with you unless she cared about you, right?" Clint asked. "You don't have anything to worry about."

"Sure," Rebecca said; but to her ears her voice sounded thin, like it came a long way off, or belonged to somebody else.

~*~ To be continued


	14. Chapter 14: Interlude IV

Natasha followed Steve down the corridor, her steely expression masking a tumultuous blend of emotions, frothing and roiling just below the surface, like waves during a storm. She had met back up with Steve after about an hour of pacing her room and laying on top of her bed, trying to get some rest like Steve had recommended. But she knew she wouldn't be able to relax until this matter with Bruce was finally settled. Other people might like to put things off, procrastinating over tough issues, but Natasha rather thought in these sort of situations it was better to treat it like removing a band aid; one swift, clean pull.

She wished she had spent the last hour with Rebecca, rather than by herself. It killed her to leave her in the terminal like that without even saying goodbye. And she couldn't bear to turn around and see the hurt look on her face that she knew was there. But she had to. As soon as Maria had told them about Bruce's return, the steels shutters slammed down around her mind and heart and she went into what she liked to call survival mode. When she felt a heavy strain on her emotions, survival mode kicked in swiftly, forcing her to deal with whatever the issue was in a calculated and logical fashion. It was something she developed within herself as a young girl.

She learned long ago that emotions were easier to handle when they were temporarily put on ice.

But now, as she walked with Steve, she was beginning to realize that she had made a mistake. Instead of spending that time alone, brooding, she _should_ have taken comfort in Rebecca's presence. She could feel her concerned gaze on her earlier, and she knew she wanted her to tell her what was going on. Rebecca was the most understanding and compassionate person she had ever met. It would have been nothing to tell her how she was feeling. As easy as falling for her had been. As easy as breathing. Sometimes, _most times_ actually, no matter how she was feeling beforehand, she felt completely better after talking with Rebecca about whatever was on her mind. Her smile, her light touch, the warmth of her eyes; the mere act of being with her was a balm for whatever ailed her.

Natasha grimaced to herself. She replayed the last miserable hour in her mind, imagining how much better it would have been if she hadn't had shut Rebecca out. For the first time in her life, Natasha felt that she had made the wrong decision in thinking that she was stronger by herself. When the two of them were together, it was like an alchemic reaction; and it felt as if pure sunlight was being injected into her marrow. Well, it was too late now. She would just have to get it over with and then find Rebecca afterwards and apologize and try to make it up to her, if she would let her.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked softly, interrupting her thoughts.

"I'm fine," she responded.

Steve nodded but didn't press the issue. That was one of her favorite things about Steve. Unlike Clint, who would hound her about things until it was all out in the open, Steve knew when she wanted something to be left alone.

They continued down the hallway until they found Maria waiting for them outside a previously unoccupied room. She nodded to them and opened the door, and the three of them walked in.

Natasha half expected Bruce to still be sleeping when they walked in, but to her surprise he was awake. He had turned the only chair in the room backwards, and was sitting on it with his elbows resting on the top of the back of the chair, facing them. He looked terrible. He was completely disheveled; his dark hair rumpled, and his eyes were red, with dark circles under them giving him the look of a man who hadn't slept for days. One corner of his shirt was left untucked. He didn't even seem to notice. Natasha had witnessed men who had been on the verge of death or insanity numerous times. There had been countless times in her own life when she had been on the edge of that same precipice herself. Bruce had that look about him now. It made her heart go out to him, despite everything else that lay between them.

He looked at the three of them facing him and smiled wryly. "Hello Steve. Natasha. Maria thought it was necessary to bring in the cavalry I guess. Do I honestly look that scary right now?"

Maria crossed her arms. "Why don't you tell us?" she asked him.

Natasha did a cursory glance around the room. Bed, single chair, small dresser. It looked like someone had removed the other chairs that were in there, leaving just the one for Bruce. She wasn't sure if it had been Maria or just another Shield agent. It certainly hadn't been Steve, as it wasn't his style. Leaving just one chair was an intimidation technique that left the person sitting at a direct disadvantage, made them feel that the others in the room were 'above' them, literally and figuratively. She had seen it done before, many times. Didn't mean she liked it. She leaned against the wall, her arms behind her, in a calm and relaxed posture that she hoped would ease Bruce's anxiety level. Despite, well... _everything_ , the last thing she wanted was for him to freak out.

Steve asked, "How are you feeling, Bruce? We've all been pretty worried about you since you took off."

He held his hands up. "I'm completely in control of myself, if that's what you're after."

Steve shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You're our teammate and our friend, and we have been **worried** about **you** , not in your level of control."

Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes resignedly, as if to dispel some of his weariness. "I'm exhausted, Steve, to be completely honest. But it isn't anything a day or so of rest won't cure." He slipped his glasses back on and cleared his throat. "So down to business. I'm back."

"Yes, we gathered that much," Maria said. "More importantly however is where did you go and why?"

"For god's sake Maria, give the man a minute. He just got back, let him explain it at his own pace," Steve said.

"All I'm saying," Maria said, bristling, "is that he owes us some kind of an explanation."

"Damn straight he does," Natasha said.

Bruce nodded. "You're right. I _do_ owe everyone at least that." He sighed and paused a moment. "I left about six months ago, as you all know. As to **why** I left, well, those are my reasons." His eyes flickered to Natasha as he continued. "After the jet crashed in the ocean, I ended up near the island Manuae, and from there made my way over to Tahiti."

Natasha couldn't help herself. "I hear it's a magical place."

Steve looked at her, confused, while Maria shot her a warning glance from behind his back.

Bruce looked confused also. "Well, I suppose so. It was certainly beautiful. But I wasn't there as a tourist, as you can imagine. I hadn't much strength left after the crash and all the swimming the big guy had to do to get me to civilization. But luckily for me, I was able to regroup and recover my strength, and while I did, I spent some time with the islanders, gaining their trust, their respect. And once they began to talk to me more, they confided in me recent stories of things that had been...troubling them."

"How did you get them to trust you so quickly?" Natasha wondered.

Bruce hesitated. "When I...came out of the water, I was still...the other guy. All those people on the coastline, they saw the Hulk coming out of the water, like some angry, green, behemoth. I was exhausted, lost my strength quickly, and became myself again rather quickly after that. But it didn't erase what some of those people saw." He smiled gently. "And instead of them thinking I was a monster, they thought I was...special, godlike." He laughed bitterly. "And they were obviously wrong, of course, but it was enough for them to trust me faster than they would a normal person." He looked up at them. "Do you know what that's like? To know that you're a monster, and yet have someone look to you as if you're not?"

His eyes met Natasha's before flickering away. Natasha closed her eyes and thought of Rebecca. Of the way the woman seemed to accept her, dark past and all, without any hesitation. Her heart warmed. She suddenly realized how important that was, that sort of redemption. She knew exactly what Bruce meant.

"You're not a monster, Bruce," Steve said softly.

He scoffed.

"What sort of things had been troubling the villagers?" asked Maria, getting them back on track.

Bruce ran his hand through his hair. "Stories of a darkness spreading over in south Asia. Some of their people had been going missing recently, lost in the night."

"How do you mean, lost in the night?" Steve asked.

"Jets and helicopters coming under the cover of darkness, kidnapping people. Using major stealth tech. And they're not just taking random people. The ones reported missing were people who were high up in the religious community. Mages, seers; people who demonstrated some level of heightened senses."

Maria interjected, "What have the authorities been doing about all of this?"

"According to my sources, the villagers pleas for investigations and justice have fallen on deaf ears. Their police forces are either already overtaxed or they just don't have enough resources."

"Or they're being paid off by whoever is behind all this," Natasha mused.

Bruce nodded. "That was my thought too. Interestingly enough, one of the villagers saw a name printed on one of the jets during one of the incidents. It was _Yuji_ , which is Chinese for Monsoon."

Steve and Maria exchanged a look.

"What?" Bruce asked. "Does that mean something that I don't know about?"

Maria said, "Monsoon is a genetics company based in Nepal. They showed up on our radar about three weeks ago, when they were linked in the disappearance of several people scattered across various countries. We have reason to believe they are associated with Hydra."

Bruce's shoulders slumped. He looked even more exhausted than before. "That's what I was afraid of."

Maria looked at Steve and Natasha. "I'll gather all the intel we have about this company and then it looks like we will probably be sending a team to Nepal. We're going to need to get to the bottom of this, and quickly." She looked back at Bruce. "Thank you Bruce, and...it's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back, I think," he replied wearily, a slight smile hovering on the edge of his lips.

"It's good to have the team back together, Bruce," Steve said, clasping him firmly on the shoulder. "Anything you need just let me know. Now take a few days and get some rest."

Steve and Maria walked out, Steve closing the door behind him, giving Natasha a slight nod that seemed to say, _you got this,_ as he did so.

Bruce looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since he had gotten back.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" he asked drily.

"Oh, I don't know," Natasha replied nonchalantly. "You managed to steal a Quinjet, crash it in the ocean, and went AWOL for six months, and Maria didn't even so much as raise her voice at you. I'd say you got off pretty easy."

"That's not what I mean, Natasha, and you know it," he said softly. "I meant...I'm in trouble with you."

Natasha sighed. She had brooded and worried over talking to him again, after the way he took off with no warning, and yet now that she had the opportunity she realized she wasn't hurt by the situation any longer. She had moved on. All the anxiety and tension she had building up from worrying about this verbal exchange slowly seeped out of her. She had wanted to confront him for so long about how he had made her felt when he left, and now...it just didn't seem important any longer.

"Bruce," she started, "you're not _in trouble_ with me. I'm not you're boss, or your wife, or anyone you should feel like you have to answer to. If you wanted to disappear for a while, I understand. Believe me, more than anyone I understand what that feels like."

"I still owe you an explanation," he said quietly. "I was overwhelmed Natasha. I don't have any other way to describe it other than I was overwhelmed. Everything that had happened in that city I tore apart, the Sokovia incident, what the press was saying, what was going on with us...it was just too much."

"And how do you think that made me feel?" she countered. "I confessed things to you, _shared_ things with you, and then you up and take off. It seemed like you were flat out rejecting me."

He nodded sadly. "It was cowardly of me. And for that, I am sorry, Natasha. Truly."

"It wasn't cowardly. You hit your limit and couldn't take anymore. You needed to get your head together. And you needed to clear the demons off your back. I understand." She smiled softly. "But I appreciate the apology."

He continued, "I was a mess in my head, Nat. Angry, confused, scared. All I could think to do was leave. But it wasn't because of you," he said, "that I left. I know it must have felt that way. But I want you to know that it wasn't because of you."

"I know that now," Natasha said honestly. "I didn't at the time, but I do now."

He looked at her more closely, puzzled. "You've changed."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"I was honestly expecting you to start beating on me as soon as Hill and Rogers left," Bruce said, smiling nervously.

Natasha grinned. "Well, I got over you a while ago, Banner. I guess you could say I'm able to put things in perspective better now. And besides, once an Avenger, always an Avenger. You'll always be my teammate and my friend."

He stared at her quietly for a moment before saying, "You're seeing someone, aren't you?"

Her eyes widened. "Is it that obvious?"

He laughed softly. "I suppose so. I mean, you seem...happier than you did before. More at peace. With yourself." He looked at her pointedly. "Are you?"

She thought of the way she felt when Rebecca shyly slipped her hand in hers, like she couldn't believe she was real. She thought of the way she felt before she met her; alone, unworthy of being cared for, of being loved. And little by little, day by day, this incredible girl showed her that some things were worth fighting for, worth _living_ for. For the first time in her life she felt as if she might deserve a small slice of happiness. The chance at a better life.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Does he work at Shield?" Bruce asked amiably. "Will I be meeting him sometime in the near future?"

 _"She_ doesn't work for Shield, no," Natasha said, relishing the look of surprise on her companion's face at the pronoun used. "She's a writer, staying at the compound while she works on a book about us. She's all about building a good public image for the team. I imagine she'd be thrilled to meet you."

"Ah, right," he said, still working through his surprise. "I'd be glad to talk with her."

"Great," she said as she stood up and headed toward the door. "And Bruce?"

"Yes?"

She smiled. "I'm glad you're back."

He sat there for a few minutes after she left, completely amazed and relieved that he had made it through the conversation without getting his head chewed off, wondering what kind of person could have influenced Natasha this much.

 _I have a lot of catching up to do,"_ he thought ruefully.

...

Her heart a million times lighter, Natasha headed down to the mess hall for dinner. The conversation with Bruce had left her slightly drained and incredibly hungry. And more than anything else, she wanted to see Rebecca. She walked in and spied Clint and Wanda sitting together at a table by the windows. She pulled up a seat in between them and kicked Clint's legs out of the way so she could stretch out.

"Did you see Banner?" he asked her.

"Yep."

"And how'd that go?" he said causally.

"Really well, actually," she said. "You would be surprised, I think."

"Well that's a relief," he said, smiling.

"Where's Becks?" she asked, looking around, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Wanda and Clint exchange a meaningful look.

"What's going on?" she asked, feeling her stomach drop.

Wanda replied, "I knocked on her door earlier and she said that she was not feeling hungry."

Clint cleared his throat. "She might be... a little upset about the whole you and Bruce thing."

Natasha closed her eyes and counted to ten. "And how does she know about that, Barton?"

"I told her," he admitted. "Which I wouldn't have had to do if you had just been honest with her from the beginning, instead of blowing her off this afternoon. She came to me because she was worried about you, so I told her the truth. Which should have come from _you_ and not _me_.

"You're right," Natasha said.

"I...I am?" Clint asked incredulously. Even Wanda looked surprised.

"Yes. I should have talked to her before doing anything else."

"She's a real sweetheart," Clint said slowly. "You know how much she takes things to heart. I tried to tell her that things were over with you and Bruce, but...I think you better go talk to her. I think her feelings might be really hurt."

Natasha stood up. "Thanks Barton, I'm going to go check on her." She left the mess hall, heading in the direction of the wing where Rebecca's quarters were.

"For as long as I live, I'll never understand women, " Clint lamented.

Wanda stuck her tongue out at him.

~*~ To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

**"Only love can make it rain**  
 **The way the beach is kissed by the sea**  
 **Only love can make it rain**  
 **Like the sweat of lovers layin' in the fields**

 **Only love can bring the rain**  
 **That makes you yearn to the sky**  
 **Only love can bring the rain**  
 **That falls like tears from on high**

 **On the dry and dusty road**  
 **The nights we spend apart alone**  
 **I need to get back home to cool, cool rain**

 **I can't sleep, and I lay, and I think**  
 **The night is hot and black as ink**  
 **Oh God, I need a drink of cool, cool rain**

 **Love, reign o'er me**  
 **Reign o'er me, o'er me, o'er me**  
 **Love, reign o'er me, o'er me**  
 **Love..." (The Who)**

Rebecca ran her hand over her eyes and willed herself to focus. After leaving Clint's room she had wandered around in a sort of daze before pulling herself together and making her way back to her quarters. Despite logically knowing that she was being ridiculous and probably blowing it out of proportion, she just couldn't help how she felt about it. _I'm acting like she's already broken up with me,_ she thought miserably as she pulled her laptop out and decided to force herself to write in a half hearted attempt to distract herself. _Just because she used to date Bruce Banner doesn't mean she still wants to. This doesn't mean anything._ But she couldn't seem to stop herself from comparing the two of them. Bruce was a genius physicist, his work in the field was well known even to people not overly familiar with the territory. He was an Avenger. He was the freaking _Hulk_ , for crying out loud. And who was she? Nobody. Now that he was back, what was keeping the two of them from getting back together?

But the root of the problem, she was beginning to realize, was that it wasn't even that she thought Bruce was better than her. It was that deep down, she felt as if she didn't deserve to be with Natasha.

She sighed and drew her eyes back to the screen. No wonder Natasha had hurried off this morning. She was probably regretting getting involved with her in the first place. _It's my own fault,_ Rebecca thought as she started typing away grimly. _This was supposed to be my job, I was supposed to be a professional. Meet people, make friends, sure. I wasn't supposed to...get involved in this way._ What was the old saying? You don't shit where you eat? But that sort of mentality was what her parents had tried to instill in her. She had never really felt that way about life or the world. She tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, to live positively. And as much as she always tried to be cool, calm, and collected, she always ended up getting emotionally attached to people. She put her heart on her sleeve all the time. Look at what she had done here already, how attached she was to these people. Wanda was one of the best friends she had ever had. Clint already felt like a cross between a father and a brother to her. And Natasha...she had started out at a crush and a friend and somewhere down the road she had worked herself into the fiber of her being until she became as integral a component as her blood or bones were. How was this possible? She had only known her for a matter of weeks, how could she possibly feel this strongly about her so soon?

"I love her," she whispered aloud, the words terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

God help her, she was in love with the Black Widow.

She pushed her computer off her lap and fell backwards onto her pillow with a groan. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't tell her how she felt of course, not now anyway. Not since Bruce came back and she was most likely getting kicked to the curb soon. She would most likely just have to wait it out and see what happened, and in the meantime keep that little tidbit of knowledge to herself. She thought of the way that Natasha's hand felt in hers, and the way her eyes lit up when she came into the room. Tears welled in her eyes. Was this really going to be over before it had barely started?

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a knock on her door.

Hastily wiping her eyes she got out of bed and went to answer it, assuming it was Clint or even Wanda seeing if she wanted anything to eat, since she had decided to skip dinner. She opened the door to find a very concerned looking Natasha standing there.

"Hey," Natasha said to her softly.

Despite being overly worried and anxious, she couldn't help but smile when she saw her. "Hey," she said back. "Do you want to come in?"

"Sure."

Rebecca stepped back to allow her space to come in. As she closed the door behind her she felt the immediate spike of desire in the room. Being this close to her pulled at her so hard she could barely breathe. It was impossible to be in a small space with her, alone, an not feel that not all too familiar rush of wanting nothing more than to be in her arms. To feel her warmth. To taste her soft lips on her own. All her worries, all her insecurities, melted away in Natasha's presence. It was dizzying. Electrifying.

Natasha sighed. "Kitten, I need to talk to you."

 _Fuck_. Rebecca felt her stomach plummet. Everyone knew that the only time anyone said that line was right before a breakup. _Don't cry, don't cry,_ she told herself fiercely. _You can cry as much as you want later, after she leaves, but don't you dare let her see how upset you are_. She pressed her lips together firmly and went to sit down on the edge of her bed.

Silently Natasha sat down next to her. She folded her hands in her lap and seemed to be gathering her thoughts for whatever she wanted to say.

Suddenly Rebecca felt a rush of anger at herself. Was she just going to sit here as quiet as a mouse and let this happen without even a retort of any kind? Was this or was this not something worth fighting for?

"Look," she said as Natasha looked at her in surprise. "I have a pretty good idea as to why you're here."

"Do you now?" the red haired woman asked, sounding faintly amused.

"Yes, I do. And...I just want to tell you that even though you might have this thing going with Bruce...well, I think what we have between us is pretty great too. And I feel... _like I am in love with you_ that even though we haven't known each other very long, I care about you a lot, and it seems we already have this connection that is pretty strong. I know you have history with Bruce and that means something too..." She took a deep breath. "But I'm pretty much crazy about you and if there's still a chance for us I'm willing to fight for it. I'm not ready to give up on us." She knew she was beginning to babble, but she couldn't seem to stop. It was like a rush of words that kept pouring out of her mouth that she had no control over.

Natasha reached over and put a finger on her lips to silence her. "Wait a second. You think this is...you think I'm here to break up with you? For Bruce?"

Now it was Rebecca's turn to be confused. "Um. Aren't you?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. Why would I do that?"

Rebecca looked away. "Well, I know that you and Bruce had a thing...you know, before. And I thought that now he was back you would...want to pick up where you left off."

She frowned. "Do I look that fickle to you?"

"No!" Rebecca said, as she reached out and covered her hand with hers. "It's not that. I'm just..." she sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I guess I just have a hard time believing that you want to be with me. That you're _happy_ with me."

Natasha looked stricken. "Why would you even question that, Rebecca?"

"Because, well, **look** at you! You're the most incredible person I've ever met. Gorgeous, brilliant, kind, generous. _You're everything I ever wanted and never knew until I met you_. Not to mention you're an Avenger. What can I possibly offer someone like you? Especially if I'm in competition with another Avenger?" Despite promising herself she wouldn't cry, to her immense embarrassment she felt warm tears spill over, leaving trails down her face. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the disgust that she knew was printed on the other woman's face.

Rebecca felt slight pressure on her chin as Natasha gently but firmly lifted her head up so she was looking into her eyes. To her shock she saw tears brimming in those perfect green eyes.

"This is my fault," Natasha said. "For how I acted earlier, and for not being clear with you from the beginning." Rebecca started to shake her head but Natasha continued, "Yes, it is. And you've been upset all day because of it. Well, let me clear things up for you kitten. Yes, Bruce and I were something of an item a little while back, before he left. But he left, and I got over it. Got over it **well** before you and I met. Do you follow me?"

Rebecca nodded uncertainly.

Natasha brushed Rebecca's cheek with her thumb, wiping away a tear. "You caught my eye the instant I saw you. You intrigued me, captivated me. And from that moment I've never looked back."

Rebecca looked away shyly. "I...it was the same for me. When I first saw you, I mean."

She leaned forward and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind Rebecca's ear, causing a small shot of warmth to flow through her. "Yes, I'm an Avenger. But you make me feel like a _person_ , a _woman_ ,and that means more to me than I could ever possibly explain. You have a beautiful soul Rebecca. Look how much good you've done for Wanda in the short amount of time you've been here. Look how much good you've done for all of us; for _me_. You came here wanting to do something extraordinary for us, you want to try and change the way people see us; people you never even met before." She paused, looking at her wistfully. "I think I'm the lucky one to have found _you_ , not vice versa.

Rebecca couldn't speak. There was so much more she wanted to say, needed to tell her. Although she had been babbling on and on a few minutes ago now the words seemed to not be able to come out at all.

"Plus," Natasha said with a grin, "you've got a pretty gorgeous casing around that beautiful soul of yours, you know." She ran a finger down Rebecca's neck, causing her to tremble.

"And for the record," Natasha continued, "you're not a rebound or a fill in until I meet someone else. I'm with you because I **want** to be with you. I want **you** , not anyone else, and certainly not Bruce. Capiche?"

Rebecca grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Got it."

Natasha tilted her head, looking at her speculatively. "You know, it's pretty hot when you call me ma'am."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rebecca said, laughing.

"And...just to be clear, did you basically offer to fight the Hulk over me?"

Rebecca blushed. "Well, when you say it like that it **does** sound a bit ridiculous."

Natasha laughed. "That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, kitten."

"Yeah?"

"Most definitely."

Natasha's voice had dropped into that husky whisper that shot tendrils of want throughout Rebecca's entire body.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Rebecca's, softly and hesitantly at first, then firmly and more insistently. She moaned as Natasha slipped her tongue into her mouth, their tongues dancing in movements that were pure heat and slickness and pleasure.

Rebecca pulled Natasha even closer so that she was almost completely in her lap. Natasha wrapped her legs around her waist and pressed herself right up against her. Rebecca could feel her heart beating wildly against the other woman's chest, could in turn feel her heart beating just as frantically against hers. It was hard to discern the difference between the two. The desire that had laid heavy and thick in the air around them prior to their talk now fizzled and crackled between them, ready to explode any second into a ceiling-high shower of gold sparks.

That was the moment, at least in Rebecca's mind, when the entire evening fell into place and stopped smelling of fear and rejection. Everything was hope and promise and the insistent drumbeat of wanting. Of needing. That was the moment when a riptide started rising inside her, like a shiver deep in her bones. From that moment on, all Rebecca could do was go with its pull and believe it would lead her to places that she had never before dreamed of.

Natasha pushed her back on the bed, continuing to straddle her as her head hit the pillow, causing her long brown hair to tumble out across the pillow. Rebecca looked up at her, as Natasha's hair fell forward, framing her face in a bright red halo.

She leaned up and kissed her again, fiercely. Lips pressing against each other hard enough to bruise, teeth nipping, fingernails leaving little crescent moons in each others skin.

Rebecca felt her hand expertly snake around her back and deftly unhooked her bra and she let out a little mewl of pleasure as her shirt and bra were lifted up, exposing her breasts to the air. Natasha ran her fingers lightly over them, leaving her flesh pebbled with goose bumps of desire in her wake. She rubbed a nipple between two fingers slowly; taking her time with each touch. With a muffled cry, Rebecca shifted her hips upward in an attempt to grind herself against the other woman.

Natasha let out a delighted laugh. "Oh, you are a bold one, kitten," she said in that low voice that seemed to have a direct connection to Rebecca's libido.

"It's all your fault," Rebecca managed to gasp out. "For being so beautiful."

With a pleased smile, Natasha pressed her lips once more against hers.

The sudden sound of pounding on the door startled Rebecca so badly she almost threw Natasha off her and clear across the room.

"Hey!" They could hear Clint yelling from the other side of the door. "Are you guys done making up yet? Game night starts in ten minutes."

"Jesus Christ," Rebecca groaned as she covered her face with her hand. "Is it possible to get **any** privacy in this place?"

Natasha chuckled as she slid off of her and onto the edge of the bed. "Around here? Not really, no. But I may have found a temporary solution to that problem."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Rebecca pushed her over playfully as she sat up and attempted to finagle herself back into her bra and straighten out her shirt. "I hate waiting. You must have realized that by now."

Natasha leaned over and bit her ear softly. "Patience is a virtue, kitten."

...

A very sexually frustrated Rebecca opened the door to find Clint standing there grinning at her. "Oh, I'm **so very** sorry to have disturbed you two," he said innocently. Was I interrupting anything?"

"Clint, there are times I seriously want to hit you over the head with something. Like a chair. Or maybe even a fridge."

"Join the club," Natasha said laughingly as she walked out the door. "I'll meet you guys down there," she called over her shoulder. "I want to get changed first."

They watched her walk down the hall and as soon as she was out of sight Clint enveloped Rebecca in a big hug, practically squeezing all the air out of her.

"Whoa! Geez, what's this for?" she gasped out.

"It's just...this is the happiest I've seen Nat in a long time, maybe ever, and I'm just really really pleased for you two."

Rebecca pressed her blushing face into his shirt. "So am I," she murmured happily.

When she and Clint reached the kitchen they found the rest of the group already there and Tony moving the chairs around the kitchen table so there were four on one side and five on the other.

"Tony, what on earth are you doing?" Sam asked, as he grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge and handing them out.

"Just setting up where our teams are going to sit," he said.

"Since when does Monopoly have teams?" Rebecca asked, slightly confused.

Clint replied with a wry grin, "Since Tony took control of the game, obviously."

"Just making it more fun," Tony said as he laid the board across the table. "A little friendly competition never hurt anyone."

"You know you are the biggest poor sport I have ever met in my life, right?" Steve asked with a grin.

Tony continued on as if he hadn't heard him. "Okay, so on Team Awesome we have myself, of course, Wanda, Vision, and Clint." He pointed to Steve. "And on Team America we have the illustrious Captain, Bruce, Sam, Natasha, and Rebecca."

"Damn, you **are** a fool," Sam chuckled. "You know when Cap and I are on a team together no one else stands a chance."

"That remains to be seen," Clint said as he cracked his knuckles.

"Can you smell the testosterone in the air?" Rebecca asked Wanda, who was giggling into her hand.

"Tony, you **do** realize that you gave yourself one less person than us, right?" Bruce asked.

He nodded. "Vision counts for two, since I made him."

Bruce shrugged. "Don't see how that makes much sense, since I helped with that, but okay."

"Vision, have you played Monopoly before?" Rebecca asked kindly.

"Oh no, but I spent the last hour studying the rules and I am quite confident that my newfound knowledge will make up for any lack of experience I might have."

He said it so seriously that they couldn't help but laugh.

Rebecca walked over to where Bruce was standing with Steve and introduced herself. She saw his eyes brighten with recognition when she told him her name and smiled inwardly at the thought of Natasha telling him about her.

"Your heroic actions and the unfair backlash you received over them are part of the reason why I'm here in the first place," she explained to him shyly. "If it's okay with you, I'd really like to sit down and talk with you at length about what it's like to be the Hulk; the good and the bad."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before giving her a small smile. "I suppose we can arrange something to that effect," he said.

"Has anyone seen Natasha?" Steve asked, looking around. "We can't start kicking Tony's ass until she gets here."

As Tony sputtered in disbelief Natasha walked into the room. "I'm here," she said. "Sorry, I had to stop by my room for a quick second."

Before anyone could say anything else, Natasha strode over to where Rebecca was standing and, pulling her close, kissed her in front of everyone.

Rebecca could not have been more shocked if Tony had been standing there throwing a bucket of water over her. Surprise reverberated through Rebecca, which quickly turned to warmth and pleased acceptance as she kissed her back.

It could have been thirty seconds later or two hours later, it was impossible for Rebecca to tell, when Natasha finally pulled away with mischief sparkling in her eyes. The room was silent. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clint shake with silent laughter and Steve smiled at them with approval. Wanda gave her a thumbs up from across the room.

Tony looked extremely amused and opened his mouth to make a comment when Natasha said, "Not a word from you Tony, or I'll break something you cant replace with mechanics." She winked at him. "And I mean anatomically." She sat down at the table with a wicked smile. "Who's ready to play?"

...

Later, after the game was over (with Team America claiming the victory) and the rest of the company had gone their separate ways, Rebecca made her way over to Natasha's quarters. She walked into her room, closing the door behind her softly. She stood for a moment with her hands behind her, her back leaning up against the door.

Natasha was stretched out on her bed, reading. She looked up as Rebecca walked in. She raised an eyebrow. "What a brave little kitten you are, coming in without knocking."

Rebecca flushed. "I...erm...well..."

Natasha burst out in peals of delighted laughter. It was a sound Rebecca was sure she would never tire of; the sound of Natasha's guard being lowered.

"And to what do I owe this honor, kitten?"

"I just...I was just wondering what that was about earlier," Rebecca replied.

"I don't know what you mean," Natasha said innocently as she turned back to her book.

Rebecca snorted. "Oh come on, you know exactly what I mean. What was that kiss about earlier? The one in front of everyone?"

Natasha looked back at Rebecca and widened her eyes. "I can't kiss my girlfriend when I want to?"

Rebecca's breath caught in her throat. "Of course you...wait, is that what I am? Your girlfriend?"

"Officially, yes." She looked slightly uncertain. "Don't you want to be?"

Rebecca, relieved, laughed. "Are you kidding? _Of course_ I do. I just...wasn't sure..." Girlfriend was such an odd word, in her opinion. It almost seemed too small of a word to sum up how she felt about her; how strong she felt the bond between them already was. For a brief instant she thought about confessing her feelings. To just blurt out that she loved her, loved her desperately, had never felt this way before, this **strongly** about **anyone**. The words stuck on her tongue. _Not yet, not yet_ she thought. _I know I love her, it's still too soon._ She was still feeling slightly vulnerable and besides, it didn't quite feel like the right time to tell her. When that moment came, she was positive that she would know.

Natasha slid off the bed in one fluid movement, as graceful as a cat. She walked over to the door and slipped her arms around Rebecca, leaning forward to kiss her lightly on the lips

"I'm not generally into public displays of affection," Natasha admitted. "But I guess I just wanted everyone to know that you're mine."

Rebecca thought she was going to melt right then and there. She knew that Natasha made that gesture for her, so that all their friends knew they were together. Rebecca laughed, feeling like she was finally whole. That she had been looking for something her whole life without even knowing it, and had  
finally found it. "And that you're mine?" she asked.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, yes kitten, that goes without saying. "You're my girlfriend, yes, but you're also so much more than that to me," she said softly against her mouth. "I don't really know how to explain it."

"You don't have to explain it," Rebecca said. Her heart was so light and full of happiness it seemed likely to float right out of her body. "I know exactly what you mean." She sighed. "I'm sorry I was so weird and insecure earlier."

"I suppose it's okay," Natasha teased, "It's just a good thing you're such a good kisser, I have to keep you around for something."

Rebecca smiled. How did this woman make everything better, all the time? "You're not so bad yourself, Miss Romanoff."

"Oh really?" she said coquettishly. "I think I better just show you how proficient I can be."

"Now that is a fantastic idea." Rebecca said as she dipped her head slightly to kiss her again.

~*~ To be continued


	16. Chapter 16

Rebecca set a glass of juice down in front of Bruce and a glass of lemonade down in front of her own seat and smiled. Bruce smiled back somewhat uncomfortably as he shifted in his seat. He was nervous, which she found to be absolutely adorable that anyone should be nervous of _her_. She had been talking with Bruce here and there for the last week, ever since he had gotten back from wherever he had been. Shield had been pretty hush-hush about the whole thing, and Rebecca didn't want to push the issue by prying, especially since Bruce himself wasn't divulging anything about it. But friendly chit chat aside, this was the first time since he got back that they were actually going to sit down and have a heart to heart conversation. It was like a dream come true. She kept herself from wriggling in her seat with excitement. She had been wanting to get to do this for what felt like _ages_. Wanda had asked her earlier if she was nervous about it, because if she was she wouldn't mind strolling through the mess hall and sending a little spritz of her powers towards the table to keep things upbeat. Although appreciating the offer, Rebecca had declined with a gentle smile. She wasn't planning on upsetting Bruce, it wasn't as if she was going to put him through a rigorous inquisition. She just honestly wanted to try and see what it was like to actually **be** the Hulk, from his point of view. It should prove to be very interesting.

Aside from Thor, Bruce was the last one she had to do this with. She had meticulously worked her way through the rest of the Avengers team, in an effort to find out from each one personally what made them tick. What they loved; their likes and dislikes, what they liked to do in their down time, and most importantly why they chose to fight. Most of their talks took place either in the living room of their section of the compound, or if it was during the day outside while walking the grounds. Except for Tony, who insisted on talking to her in the kitchen, serving them both glass after glass of wine until they were both laughing and commiserating and pleasantly intoxicated. Luckily for her she had taken good notes because come the next morning, her memory turned out to have a quite a few blank spots. She smiled to herself at the recollection.

The thing that had left the biggest impression on her so far, was the fact that no matter how mighty or bigger than life they may appear, deep down, at the core of each of them; they were just regular people doing the best they could everyday.

She took a sip from her lemonade, and looked at Bruce sitting across from her. He seemed like a nice enough person, gentle even, despite his alter ego. A gentle giant. Since Natasha had set the record straight with her last week, she no longer felt as if she had anything to worry about Bruce's presence at the compound. And she was exceedingly glad that she did. She had a feeling she would be missing out on a great friendship if she had let that consume her more than it already had in the first place.

She smiled at him reassuringly. "Okay, first question," she started. "How long has the Hulk...been around?" She figured she would begin with some basic questions, even if it was knowledge she could have easily obtained from any credible online source.

"It's been so long now," he said honestly, "that I have a hard time remembering what it was like _before_ the other guy came along."

She nodded. "Do you still remember it? That first time, I mean. And does it feel different now?"

He closed his eyes. "As hard as it is to imagine what it was like before this all happened...I'll never forget that first time. The fear. The pain. The overwhelming anger. It's not as hard as that first time, especially since I've managed to control it for the most part."

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you," she said sympathetically.

He shrugged self consciously. "We all do what we have to, I guess."

"I know you're probably asked this a lot," she apologized, but what is it actually like...when you're the Hulk? Is it like blacking out?"

"If you're asking me if I remember what I do when I'm rampaging about, then the answer is yes," he said wryly. "I wish I could say that I pass out, don't realize what I'm doing, but unfortunately that's not the case. I'm still me, the part of me that's Bruce is still aware of what's going on, but it's muted somehow. Almost as if I'm underwater."

"Do you regret all that's happened?" Rebecca asked quietly. "If you could go back and change it, would you?"

He looked at her for a moment, silently pondering. "You can't change the past," he finally said. "And I know that everything that happens, happens for a reason. But _if_ I could, _if_ I could go back and change it...yes I would. If it would erase all the people I've hurt, the destruction I've caused, then yes. I would do it in a heartbeat."

She leaned across the table and laid her hand gently on top of his. "Despite what you might think of yourself, you're not a monster. And if you don't believe me, just ask your team mates. Or take a look around the mess hall. Or better yet, ask any one out of the numerous people's lives that you have saved. They all know and believe you to be a hero. And you know what, Bruce? They're right."

He smiled softly. "Are you're sure you're just a writer? Not a psychologist?"

"Nope! Just a writer." She grinned. "But I did minor in psychology in college."

He chuckled. "I figured as much."

"I hope this doesn't...bother you too much. Me asking you all these things, I mean. I just...really want to make sure I have a good understanding of what you go through so I can accurately represent you in my book."

"It doesn't bother me," he said. "If fact...in a way it feels nice to be able to talk about it. Sometimes the simple act of sharing something that's troubling has a cathartic effect." He paused, looking at her. This is really important to you, isn't it?" He asked curiously. "This book about us. It isn't just some project for you, is it?"

"Oh no, not at all!" she exclaimed. "I think of it more like a labor of love. You guys mean a lot to me. Even before I met you all, you meant a lot to me, if that makes any sense?"

Bruce nodded.

"So," she continued, "When I saw all those awful reports and all that rotten propaganda that started coming out...I just wanted to do something to help remind people who the real heroes are."

Suddenly a loud voice from behind her said, "Stop while you're ahead, Rebecca, you'll bring a tear to my eye."

"Hello Tony," Bruce said in an exasperated tone.

Rebecca turned around in her seat. "Hey Tony!" she said. "Can people made out of iron actually shed tears?" she asked teasingly.

He held up a hand. "I just wear the iron, I'm not made out of it."

"Hmmmm...that's funny. That's not quite the way Pepper describes you."

Bruce sputtered into his juice as Tony broke out into laughter. "Touché, Becks. Is this payback for interrupting your meeting or investigation of whatever this thing is?"

"It's called an interview, Tony," Bruce said while shaking his head.

"Damn straight it is," Rebecca said with a smile as she took a sip of her lemonade.

"Well as much as I would hate to have to break up this little party, I need to steal Bruce for a little bit."

"Everything okay?" Rebecca asked while Bruce looked on, concerned.

Tony waved his hand breezily. "Oh yeah, everything's hunky dory. Just have something in the lab I need to run by him."

Bruce stood up and looked at Rebecca apologetically. "I'm sorry to have to cut this short."

Rebecca shook her head hastily. "No worries! Do what you have to, I can always catch up with you later. And Bruce? Thanks a lot. For taking the time to talk with me like this."

He nodded and smiled softly. "Thank you for listening." He and Tony turned and started heading out of the mess hall.

Rebecca took one last sip of her drink and started gathering her notes together. Despite being interrupted she figured she had enough to write a large portion of what she hoped was the heart and soul of her novel. It was all very exciting. With a grin she grabbed her now empty glass and the rest of her papers and stood up, looking forward to spending some time in her quarters and working on her story.

She turned and almost walked right into Vision.

"Oh! I'm sorry Vee, you were so quiet I didn't even hear you come up!"

The corners of his mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. Her and Wanda had started calling him Vee about two weeks ago. To the complete surprise of both of them, it stuck, and the rest of the team had taken to calling him that as well. Despite never saying anything about it one way or the other, she could tell he liked the nickname.

"Miss Rebecca, if I may steal a moment of your time?" He asked politely.

She smiled at him. "Of course, Vee, what's up?"

He looked around uncertainly. "It is a bit of a delicate matter, actually. Would you mind if we went somewhere a little less crowded, perhaps?"

Feeling a tad bit alarmed, she nodded and followed Vision out of the mess hall and into the corridor. He looked around to make sure they were alone and said, "Wanda considers you to be her best friend."

It was a statement, not a question, and yet Rebecca felt her heart fill with warmth at his words. "I am? She said that?"

The android nodded. "Yes, she has."

"Oh! Wow, that's...I'm really honored that she feels that way. I feel the same way about her, she's just wonderful!"

He beamed at her, and she marveled at the way his face was transformed by his smile. Aside from the red hue of his face, he looked completely human. "I am very happy to hear that, Miss Rebecca. You see, I am planning something special for her and I require your assistance."

She folded her arms and faced him. "I'd be happy to help, what do you need me to do?"

"I have plans to give her a special night. One in which I provide sustenance for her as a surprise."

Rebecca grinned. "So you're going to make her dinner?"

"Yes," Vision said, "However I have yet come across an opportunity to ascertain what her preferred food of choice might be."

"Hmmmm," she mused. "You know I don't think I've ever asked her, to be honest. I don't recall it ever coming up in conversation before."

"I am afraid that if I ask her myself, my intentions might become apparent."

Rebecca giggled. "Well, yeah, I could see that. You're wonderful, Vee, but you certainly aren't good at being nonchalant about things."

He smiled, abashed. "Yes, precisely so."

"Okay, so you need me to do some digging and casually find out what her favorite meal is?"

"I would be most indebted to you if you would do so, Miss Rebecca."

She patted his shoulder. "It's no trouble at all, Vee! I'd be happy to! Anything to help you two lovebirds out."

If it was possible to turn any redder, he would have. "Oh, no, I am afraid you are _quite_ mistaken. We're not..."

"In any case," Rebecca said as she spoke over him. "I'll make sure I find out for you, okay? Was there a specific date you wanted to plan it for? So I know whether to ask sooner rather than later?"

"Well, her birthday is coming up in a few weeks, so I would like to do it as close to that as possible."

Rebecca clasped her hands together excitedly. "Oh that's perfect! A romantic dinner planned by you! She's going to love it!"

His expression grew serious. "I certainly hope so. I am going to do my best to make sure she has the best day possible."

She smiled. "I'll help any and every way that I can, my friend."

He looked relieved as he nodded to her gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Rebecca. I am grateful for any assistance you can provide."

With that he said goodbye to her and continued down the corridor. Rebecca watched him for a minute, feeling happy and completely light at heart, and wishing she could see Wanda's face when he showed her what he made for her, whatever it turned out to be.

Her phone hummed in her pocket, indicating that she had received a text. _What now?_ she thought as she pulled it out and checked it. Her heart gave a little flip as she saw that it was from Natasha. Short and sweet, like all of her texts were, just asking her if she wasn't too busy if she could join her on the roof. With a grin she slipped the phone back in her pocket and heading off towards the Avenger's part of the compound.

...

After balancing two mugs of tea and navigating herself up the stairs and through the door to the roof, Rebecca found Natasha and handed her one of the mugs, silently congratulating herself on not spilling either of them.

Natasha took hers with a smile. "Thanks, kitten. How did you know I was _just_ thinking about how much I wanted some tea?"

Rebecca shrugged shyly. "Because I know you," she said simply as she took a small sip to hide her smile. Natasha loved to put on the mysterious spy persona when she was around others, but Rebecca saw right through it to the person she was underneath all the layers. She wondered if she would ever stop feeling overwhelmingly grateful that she as the one Natasha opened up to. Probably not. She took another sip of her tea, breathing in the flowery scent and enjoying the sweetness of the beverage on her tongue. She sighed happily. She couldn't imagine feeling more relaxed.

"I'm leaving the day after tomorrow," Natasha said.

Rebecca was so startled she almost dropped her cup. Leaving? Why? She quickly gathered together her composure and replied, "Oh?"

Natasha reached out and tucked her arm around Rebecca's. "Look at your face! Relax, Becks. It's just for three days. I have a mission in Prague."

Rebecca's eyes lit up. "Really?! Prague?! That's supposed to be one of the most historical and beautiful cities in the world! Did you know they have the oldest clock in the world there? And two famous bridges? And did you know that it was supposedly founded by a sorceress?"

Natasha laughed. "No, I didn't. You're just a cute little fount of knowledge, aren't you? Have you ever been there before?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't. But I've always wanted to. It's definitely on my bucket list."

"Hmmmm," Natasha said thoughtfully. "Well, this mission is pretty straightforward. There's an American diplomat attending a big ball being hosted by Vaclav Klaus, Prague's current President. They're requesting more security backup for him, just as a precaution. I volunteered for this as soon as I heard about it from Maria."

"Is there animosity between our country and Prague right now?"

"To my knowledge, no."

"Is there some kind of excessive danger involved? Like is the President actually an alien or a Hydra assassin or something? Or some super-powered bad guy hell bent on world destruction?"

Natasha let out a small laugh. "Again, no. But good imagination."

"Why is Shield even being asked to send backup? This doesn't really seem like something they would normally be involved in."

"It's not. But Maria thought any and every assignment she can find for us to help bring Shield back into a positive light, in terms of media and such, is a good thing. So she's picking up cases for us that have a lot of media coverage in the hopes of recovering some of what we've lost recently. Which means taking on assignments that we normally wouldn't."

Rebecca nodded. "Makes sense." Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed in confusion. "Maybe this is out of my area of expertise...but doesn't this assignment seem sort of...beneath your skill level? I mean, don't get me wrong," she said hastily, "I know you would kick this missions ass, like you do with every mission that's assigned to you, I'm sure. But sending in the Black Widow for such a simple mission? I mean security detail? Really? Isn't that a bit overkill?"

Natasha looked at her silently, and Rebecca began to wonder if maybe she had crossed the line."

Suddenly a smile broke out across Natasha's face. "You're right," she said.

"Um. I am?"

She squeezed her arm. "Yes, you are."

"So why did you sign up for it?"

"Well...to be honest, I was sort of hoping you would come with me."

Rebecca was pretty sure she felt her heart stop. "Come to Prague...with you?"

Natasha grinned at her expression. "Yeah. As soon as I heard about it I thought of you. Figured it would be something you would be interested in. Although, I wouldn't in a million years dream of taking you somewhere you would be in danger, and this mission is pretty low risk. I'm pretty sure I could do it in my sleep." She sobered, her face growing more serious. "Honestly, Becks, I would never let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"

Rebecca threaded her fingers through hers. "I know," she said softly. She couldn't imagine anywhere she would feel more safe that by Natasha's side. She just exuded a sense of protection and comfort for her.

"Plus," Natasha continued, "I thought it would be nice to have a few days alone. Just the two of us." Her eyes danced with mischief.

Rebecca remembered her previously mention that she had an idea of how she could arrange some private time for the two of them. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head at the implication.

"You'd be responsible for your plane ticket, of course," Natasha continued. "I can't see any feasible way of getting Shield to pay for **that**. "But as for the hotel, well, you'll be staying with me in my room so you won't have to worry about lodging while you're there."

"And Shield won't mind that I'm going with you?"

Natasha shrugged. "It's not as if I'm taking you on the mission with me. As long as you don't get in the way of that I don't see why they would care." She smirked. "And it's not really any of their business anyway. If worse comes to worse we can always say you're going for research purposes. Your book, remember?"

Rebecca blinked. "If you say so."

"So what do you say?" Natasha said as she leaned in and nuzzled her neck. "I'm sure you can keep yourself occupied while I'm on the mission and then after that...I'm all yours."

 _What do I say?_ She thought incredulously. _I say that it's the chance of a lifetime!_ She was pretty certain that Maria Hill wouldn't exactly be overjoyed that she was going, but Natasha seemed fairly confident that she had it handled. And who was she to argue with the Black Widow? Her girlfriend. Sheesh. She wondered if that thought would ever cease to blow her mind. And as for the money part of it...she did some quick mental calculations in her head. A plane ticket to Europe would be pretty expensive, but she had enough of a nest egg saved away she was sure she could handle it. The only other thing she had been saving for was a possible trip to Cancun later in the year, but who cared about that now? A three day trip to a place she had always dreamed of going with the woman she loved? It was almost too good to be true.

She kissed the tip of Natasha's nose. "When do we leave?" She asked with a grin.

~*~ To be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

**"Islands in the stream**  
 **That is what we are**  
 **No one in between**  
 **How can we be wrong**  
 **Sail away with me**  
 **To another world**  
 **And we rely on each other**  
 **From one lover to another..."(** Dolly Parton)

 _If you really want time to think things over,_ Rebecca thought, _then a nine hour flight to Europe is always a good place to start_. Her hand tapped out a nervous rhythm on her leg and looked out the window.

She felt a hand cover hers, stilling its erratic movements. She looked over to see Natasha looking at her bemusedly.

"Ah, I was doing it again, wasn't I?" Rebecca asked sheepishly.

"Becks, will you please relax? I know you've flown before. And if Clint's flying the Quinjet didn't send you into conniptions, then this should be a piece of cake."

"This is a _much_ longer flight than that was," she replied. "I love flying. Really, I do. Just not for nine hours straight."

Natasha tossed her a small packet. "Here," she said. "Have some over-salted peanuts."

"I've already had three of those things," Rebecca confessed. "If I have any more than I'll probably go into cardiac arrest."

"Well," Natasha leaned over and lowered her voice. "Would it help ease your nerves a bit if I described in detail some of the lingerie I brought? Here's a hint...it's all black and all lace."

Rebecca flushed. "Sure, if you're trying to send me into cardiac arrest even sooner go ahead and keep going with that kind of talk."

Natasha laughed softly. "You're so cute." She ran her hand up the back of Rebecca's neck and began to gently massage her scalp. "How's that, kitten? Feel better?"

She sighed, feeling a bit of the tension leave. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "That's amazing."

"Good girl," Natasha said as she pulled on her earbuds with her free hand, resuming whatever she had been listening to before she had been distracted by the other woman's nervousness. From the small bit she could hear from sitting next to her it sounded like jazz.

Rebecca leaned her head back and looked back out the window. The clouds swirled frothily, almost like waves in the sea. Their undulating languid movements seemed to lessen her anxiety even further. This was the first seemingly quiet moment that she had had since Natasha had invited her along to Prague. She had ordered a plane ticket through Delta airlines, packed a bag, and said her goodbyes all in a whirlwind of activity that still seemed almost too good to be true. As soon as the plane had taken off she had pinched herself when no one was looking just to make sure everything was really happening and wasn't just some crazy dream.

She turned her head slightly to look at Natasha. She had a soft smile across her face while she enjoyed her music.

 _Tell her, tell her now._ The thought suddenly emerged from where she had kept it hidden, pushing all other thoughts aside. For a brief moment she imagined leaning over, slowly removing Natasha's earphone and whispering, _I love you_ , softly and then punctuating the statement by nipping her ear. What would happen if she did that? How would she react? What would she say? She spent a happy minute or two smiling while playing it out in her head. Natasha drawing her even closer for a long and lingering kiss. Whispering against her lips that she loved her too, as tears of happiness flooded her eyes. Well. That was probably just some sort of fantasy. And still, they were on a plane. Thousands of miles above the ground in a metal tube surrounded by strangers, essentially. Not the most romantic setting. Now if she had a random guitar she could pull off something like that scene from The Wedding Singer. But being that she couldn't sing her way out of a wet paper bag, she figured it was a moot point anyway. She stifled a giggle at the thought of all the other passengers cringing if she were to break out into some kind of romantic singing. She could only imagine Natasha's face if that happened.

"What are you giggling about?" Natasha asked curiously as she pulled out an earbud and opened an eye, assessing her.

"Oh nothing," Rebecca said as she grinned at her innocently before looking back out the window. It wasn't the right time. If she was going to tell Natasha that she loved her, she wanted it to be special. And happening in a public place was not what she would call special, in any sense of the word. She bit her lip. And yet as hard as she might try to deny it, she couldn't help but think that she was coming up with any excuse she could to _not_ tell Natasha how she really felt. Did people really do that, anyway? Confess feelings of love after such a short amount of time? Well sure they did. In young adult romance novels maybe. But this was the real world. Grown up stuff. And having feelings this strong for another person was fucking scary. She supposed that, despite feeling much more confident in their relationship, the thought of telling her how deep her feelings truly went was a daunting and terrifying prospect. So she decided to hold it all in for a little while longer. Keep it to herself until she could find the courage within herself to tell her that she loved her.

She absentmindedly toyed with her necklace as she watched the passing clouds. There was something else she was keeping from Natasha. Something she was keeping from _everyone_. It was a tiny slip of a secret. An idea that had come to her one night while laying in bed and drifting off to sleep. She had it worked out with Pepper and Maria that she was to stay at the compound for as long as two months to gather all the information she would need to get a good start on her book. And while neither of them had brought it up, she knew she only had about another two weeks before she hit that deadline. It was only fair, after all. She had been living with them basically cost free, for all this time. And while her project could potentially do them a world of good in terms of publicity, she wasn't an Avenger and she wasn't a Shield agent. She was going to have to leave, and soon. In terms of her book, she was doing great. She had most of the information she needed, just a few more interviews, a few more observations, and she felt she would have enough to crack down and get the thing written. The book wasn't the problem. The problem was the thought of leaving the compound and going back home made Rebecca fel as if she had swallowed a handful of razors. The first time she had realized that her time with the Avengers was coming to an end soon, she had had a panic attack that hit her so swiftly and so hard it almost knocked her down. And she had been doing a lot of pondering about it since then. Until the tiny idea came to her the other night.

She was seriously considering moving to upstate New York.

She closed her eyes, listening to the steady hum of the plane. Should she do it? Why not? Why not indeed. She knew what people would say. She didn't want to be _that_ girl; the one who packed up and moved because of a girlfriend or boyfriend. And truthfully, Natasha was only part of the reason why she wanted to do it. The other part was the fact that for the first time in a long time, she felt as if she was part of a family. She wasn't an Avenger, not by any stretch of the imagination, but after living with them and spending time with them this past month and a half, she was delighted and grateful to find that they had welcomed her with open arms and treated her as if she was one of them. She was comfortable around them, she felt safe with them, and most importantly she loved them. Loved _all_ of them. It had taken her a while, but she felt as if she had finally found where she belonged. And she wasn't quite ready to give it up yet.

For probably the millionth time she went over everything in her head. She paid her rent on her two bedroom apartment back in New Jersey on a month to month basis, so as long as she gave them enough of a notice, leaving wouldn't be too much of an issue. There were plenty of houses for sale in the nearby towns surrounding the Avengers compound, all within an easy fifteen to twenty minute drive. She had noticed some of them as early as when her and Wanda had gotten ice cream way back in the beginning of her stay. Cute, small, rustic houses; the kind of houses she had always admired and dreamed of living in. From saving most of her books sales money, and working odd jobs here and there, she had a good enough amount of money for a down payment on something little. She had been saving for years. And even if something happened and she stopped being able to make a living through her writing, she could always pick up waitressing or bartending, or even secretarial work. She had done it all before. She could do it again. Luckily she was living in an apartment rather than a house which would make leaving all the more easy. Her parents were constantly pressuring her to buy a house, yet she had always been hesitant to buy one just for the sake if buying one, or because she was thirty years old and that's what adults did, at least according to her parents. She had always hated the thought of putting down roots in a place she wasn't entirely happy. And she hadn't a permanent job in New Jersey, no close friends she would be leaving behind. And she was _happy_ here, loved the people and the area. Wasn't that enough of a legitimate reason? And anything that got her over seven hours away from her parents was an added bonus.

She was ready to take this step.

She felt a shiver of excitement at the thought. She thought of how nice it would be to finally have a place of her own. Stability. Safety. Friendship. Love. She could have a room with her computer and books, set aside for working. She pictured having pizza parties and inviting everyone over, Clint making stupid jokes and Wanda making fun of him. She imagined Natasha spending the night, spending the weekend, curled up together in bed and probably getting no sleep _ever_. After spending so many years in doubt and anxiety, she finally felt as if all aspects of her life were coming together for the better.

With comforting thoughts and hopes for her future swirling through her head, she was finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.

...

When Natasha finally shook her awake a couple of hours later, Rebecca was surprised to find that they were landing. She had slept through the last quarter of the flight.

"Did you get any rest at all?" she asked Natasha, who seemed just as alert and bright-eyed as usual.

"I never sleep in public places," she responded casually.

"Never?!" Rebecca asked in disbelief. "Not even on the train or the bus?"

"I like to always be aware of my surroundings," she said, "Can't very well do that if I'm asleep, can I?"

Rebecca groaned and ran her fingers through her long hair, attempting to straighten out any tangles that had wound themselves in there from her sleep. "You must think I'm a bum. I could fall asleep anywhere. Literally, anywhere," she said with a slight laugh.

Natasha tapped the tip of Rebecca's nose with her finger. "Don't worry, kitten," she said with a wry smile. "Sleep wherever you like. I'll look after you."

...

Once they retrieved their bags from the luggage terminal, Natasha got them a taxi to get them to their hotel.

"We're staying at the Charles hotel," she explained once they were on their way. "It's right off the Charles Bridge and fairly close to where I have to be for the President's party."

"That's tomorrow night, right?" Rebecca asked as she stared out the window, fascinated by the beautiful city. It was the heart of the summer and the streets were flocked with people. She tried to look at every single thing as they drove through the city. She stared so hard she thought her eyes would pop out of her head.

Natasha nodded. "Cocktail Hour starts around three, but I'll have to be there a few hours earlier to prepare. And I'll have to stay for the whole thing, so I'll most likely be getting back rather late," she apologized.

Rebecca shrugged and smiled. "It's okay! It's your job right? I'll be okay. Maybe I'll walk across the bridge and head into..." she consulted the guide book she had hastily purchased at the airport "Old Town, or even the Jewish Quarter."

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. _Please_ don't get lost if you go walking around by yourself. If I have to turn this city upside down to find you I will not be a happy camper."

She grinned. "So you're saying you'd be worried about me?"

The other woman scowled. "Of course I'd be worried about you! What do you think I am, made of stone?"

Rebecca bit her lip playfully. "So if I get lost and you have to find me...will I be punished?"

Natasha leaned over and laid her hand on her thigh, squeezing suggestively. "You can't even imagine the kind of punishment I'd be dishing out, darling."

Rebecca closed her eyes and trembled with suppressed desire.

"In any case," Natasha said as she straightened back up in her own seat, seemingly gratified by the reaction she had gotten out of Rebecca, "It's still early enough that we can take a little tour of this part of the city and then go for an early dinner somewhere if you'd like?"

Rebecca nodded happily. "That sounds great to me. But are you sure you don't mind going with me to see some of the sights? I know you've probably been here loads of times."

"I have," she said simply. "But I've never been here with you," Natasha said as she looked away shyly.

...

After about a twenty minute drive they finally reached the hotel. Rebecca was used to staying overnight in hotels since she had done it so often on books tours and such. But the dinky little Econo Lodges and Holiday Inns paled in comparison to the Charles Hotel. It was huge and had an old fashioned look to it, which seemed to be on par with the city itself. Just being her felt like being transported back into another time. The hotel building itself was a light cream color, and the pillars and moldings were covered in carved scrolls, and other intricate archaic designs. It was beautiful. She turned around, getting a view of the area. She could see the famous Charles Bridge, in all its grand and beautiful glory, leading to other parts of the city.

"This is just...it's just!" She spun around in a circle, dizzy with happiness. "I don't know what it is!"

Natasha laughed. "Your enthusiasm is showing, Becks. "

Rebecca looked at Natasha and smiled warmly, barely unable to contain her excitement. "No, I **do** know what this is. It's like a dream come true," she said. She grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly. "Seriously, thank you."

Natasha squeezed her hand back. "You don't have to thank me, kitten," she said softly. "I wouldn't want to be here without you."

They went up to their room and Rebecca was impressed once more at the luxuriousness of their quarters. The walls were almost the same cream color as the outside of the building, and the one bed had a dark gold bedspread covering a soft mattress and surrounded by a dark cherry wood headboard that matched the dark wood of the rest of the furniture in the room.

There was just the one bed.

When Rebecca saw it she looked at Natasha and made a disapproving clucking noise. "Why, Miss Romanoff, I do believe you lured me here to drag me down with you into a weekend of sin and vice."

Natasha shrugged and attempted to look as innocent as possible. "What? This was the only room I could get. Wasn't my fault it was a room that only had one king sized bed. It's not like I _requested_ this room. What kind of woman do you take me for?"

Rebecca burst out laughing. "A devious one maybe?"

"Hmmm," she said as she approached Rebecca and ran a finger across her back as she walked behind her to the bathroom. "You could be right."

Rebecca ran her fingers across the silky smooth golden cover on the bed and let out a loud sigh of contentment. Everything here was so beautiful and regal.

"Keep making noises like that kitten, and I'm going to have to tranquilize you," Natasha called out from the bathroom as she unpacked some of her toiletries.

Rebecca snorted. "Okay, yeah, like you have tranquilizers."

Natasha peeked her head out of the bathroom, giving her a look that clearly said, _do you really want to know the answer to that question?_

Rebecca gulped and sat down on the end of the bed. Sometimes her girlfriend scared the shit out of her. But completely in a good way, if that made any sense at all. Which it probably didn't. As Rebecca unpacked her books and clothes and laid them in the small dark brown nightstand next to the bed, she once again thought how lucky she was to be here, with Natasha. It was so surreal.

Natasha came out of the bathroom with a big grin on her face. "Well," she asked, "are you ready for an adventure into Prague, kotkyu?"

...

Natasha told her to leave her guidebook back in the hotel, since she knew her way around the city, at least this part of the city, fairly well. They stepped out into the street that was thronged with hordes of people milling about. The sky was a soft deep blue, the kind of sky you could fall into and get lost. It was pleasantly warm, but not uncomfortably so, despite it being the middle of summer.

She led her down through Mals Strana, which was the oldest neighborhood not only in Little Quarter, but in the whole city. Rebecca felt as if she had stepped out of a time machine and landed in the far distant past. All the building looked so old, yet so beauitufl, like something out of a painting. She could easily imagine the scholars and inventors and alchemists and merchants from a long time past as they thronged the cobblestone streets, selling their wares, dreaming their dreams, and going about their day to day lives. It was mostly filled with tourists and Czech citizens now, but the writer in her couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like centuries ago. There were shops every few steps it seemed like, selling all manner of trinkets and baubles to catch and dazzle the eye. the air was filled with the mingled scents of flowers and fruit, and the smoked meats that vendors were selling on the streetcorners. She had little to no knowledge of architecture, yet even so she was blown away by the various medieval style houses and churches. Natasha would point out places and structures she knew, and Rebecca would regale her with colorful tales of the city's legends and past, some imagined, some real. They made a game of it. Rebecca would tell her a story and then have Natasha try and guess if was true or just something she made up on the spot, As Rebecca expected, she guessed correctly most of the time.

It was the most perfect day that she could have imagined.

At Rebecca's request they walked to the Wallenstein Palace, a huge and beautifully ornate building that now housed the Senate. With all it's tapestries and paintings and lavish interior trimmings and trappngs, it looked like a medieval castle out of some fairytale legend. Hand in hand the women walked past the tourists taking pictures and wandered out through the numerous gardens on the premises, silently admiring the rows and rows of bronze statues. In one of the gardens, Natasha reached up and plucked a plum from a tree and handed it to Rebecca as they passed by.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Rebecca asked, scandalized.

"Probably not," Natasha said as she grinned at her expression. "But sometimes you have to live a little, right?"

Rebecca took a bite of the tangy plum and grudgingly murmured, "Okay, this is pretty amazing."

"See?" Natasha said with a wicked grin as she wiped a finger over Rebecca's lips, catching a drop of juice left by the stolen fruit. "Sometimes you just have to go for it." She raised her finger to her lips to taste the hint of plum left behind, never taking her steely green gaze off the other woman.

Rebecca made a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a sigh as she felt herself blush.

Natasha laughed. "Come on, Becks. We still have one more place to see before dinner."

The place that Natasha had in mind was the Kampa Museum of modern art, a veritable cornucopia of central European artwork and statues. There were rooms and rooms of artwork, it just seemed endless. Rebecca loved museums, the quiet dignity of them, the musty smell of artistic genius preserved through time. Natasha seemed to love it too, she pointed out a few of her favorite pieces while asking Rebecca to pick out a few favorites of her own, which was difficult, since it was all so undeniably beautiful, but in the end she picked some poems she found inscribed in one wall, that spoke of beauty and truth and mystery.

Natasha pinched her lightly and called her a romantic. Rebecca stuck her tongue out at her teasingly.

She had never seen this side to Natasha before, being with her was like constantly peeling away layers, each one a hidden gem. She loved every minute of it.

...

During their walk Rebecca brought up the subject that Vision had talked to her about before she left. "So I'm going to talk with Wanda when I get back," she told Natasha. "Hopefully I'll be able to wrangle the information out of her. What her favorite meal is and such. Her Birthday is only a few weeks away, but I think that should give Vee enough time to figure out how to make...whatever it is."

"I'm sure he'll be able to learn it rather quickly," Natasha responded wryly. "He learned how to play tennis with me in two hours, when I asked him."

Rebecca nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. It must be nice to learn things that quickly. I think I would end up hurting myself if I tried to play tennis in that amount of time."

Natasha laughed. "That creates such a cute mental image, I won't lie. But I'm sure Wanda's going to love it," she continued. "No matter what he does for her Birthday. It's obvious they're crazy about each other."

"I think it's fantastic!" Rebecca gushed. "They're just so damn cute together, don't you think?"

Natasha nodded. "I don't envy them, though," she said carefully. "They might have a rough road ahead of them."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, he's an android, right? You know they'll probably catch a lot of bullshit from other people about that."

"Surely not from the team!?" Rebecca asked, outraged. She couldn't imagine any of the Avengers treating one of their own with such disrespect.

"Oh, god no," Natasha snorted. "I'm sure the team will be fine with it. Especially Bruce and Tony, since they're the ones who technically created him. But I'm sure not everyone in Shield will be too crazy about it. Not to mention the rest of the world. What do you think the public will have to say about an Avenger being romantically involved with an android? This country only _just_ allowed homosexuals to marry legally. This is a whole different ballgame."

Rebecca stopped in her tracks and stomped her foot furiously. "That's such crap! Why shouldn't they be together? If they're happy and they love each other, that's all that matters! And it's no one else's business anyway!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her. "I happen to agree with you, Becks. Or should I say, the love police? Should I get you your own cape with a image of a heart on the back of it?" She chuckled. "I'd hate to get in your way if you hear anyone talking badly about Wanda or Vee."

"Damn straight," she huffed. "Wanda's my best friend. I'd do whatever I could to protect her."

"She's very lucky to have you," Natasha said, smiling. "So am I, for that matter. And what's all this about love, anyway? Did she tell you she was in love with him?"

"Not exactly, no," she said blushing.

Natasha burst out laughing. "See? You **are** a romantic!"

"Oh shut up," she responded, still blushing and smiling slightly.

...

By the time the sun was starting to set Rebecca was completely exhausted, despite her nap on the plane. They wandered back to the hotel to get cleaned up before dinner. Rebecca passed out on the bed almost as soon as they walked in the door, only to be awakened by Natasha about twenty minutes later.

"Up you go, kitten," she said softly. "Your turn for the shower."

Rebecca blinked groggily and then opened her eyes in shock.

Natasha was standing in front of her, clad only in a white fluffy towel. Her hair, darkened from water, hung around her neck in damp red waves. She could see the swell of her breasts right above where the towl ended, and there were droplets of water that sat alluringly on the slope of her collarbones.

"Sweet Jesus," Rebecca said under her breath.

Natasha, hearing her, laughed and took a step back. "As much as I want to let this towel drop, I have a feeling if I do it will make us very _very_ late for dinner."

"I'd rather just have you for dinner," Rebecca said. She had no idea where it even came from. It just popped out.

Natasha looked just as surprised as Rebecca felt. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and Rebecca could see her torso tremble. A self satisfied smile crossed her face and she said quietly, "You are quite the temptatation, Becks." She opened her eyes and took another step back. "However we have reservations, so I think I'll make you wait just a little while longer."

Rebecca buried her face in a pillow. "You are so damn cruel," she told her, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm beginning to think that you honestly enjoy torturing me."

She heard Natasha laugh as she walked away from the bed. "And if that's true, than what kind of masochist does that make you, since you so obviously _like_ being tortured?"

 _That is a very good point_ , Rebecca thought moodily as she dragged herself from bed and headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

~*~ To be continued


	18. Chapter 18

**Ta-da! Two chapters in two days, that's a record for me I think! ;) I want to dedicate this next chapter to you, dear readers! 3 I just wanted to once again say THANK YOU for all of you guys reading/reviewing/following/favoriting this story. It obviously is a story that means alot to me, and it means even more that you guys seem to love it as well. So once again, thank you guys SO MUCH for all your continued support and for loving my story! It means the world to me, as do you guys!**

The place Natasha had chosen for them for dinner was called Terasa U Zlate Studne, which, according to her, was also known as the Golden Well Rooftop Terrace. Rebecca wasn't sure about the golden well part, there wasn't any well that she could see, but when the waiter led them through the restaurant and up a stairwell and onto the roof Rebecca's breath was taken away.

"You like it?" Natasha asked, squeezing her hand.

Rebecca didn't even have words to answer her. There weren't as many tables up here as there were downstairs, lending the place a more casual, private atmosphere. The tables were stone wrought, and covered with lush red cushions. There were numerous pots with all kinds of colorful flowers overflowing and spilling their scents into the air. She could smell jasmine and honeysuckle in the air as she gazed around, enraptured. There was even an arbor which was covered with intertwined tendrils of ivy and light purple flowers that she didn't recognize. There were strings of lights wrapped around the length of the balcony, giving the illusion that the rooftop was flocked with fireflies or faeries. The view of the city from the roof was incredible. She could see the entire length of the Charles Bridge.

"This place is absolutely beautiful," Rebecca gushed as they sat down and Natasha ordered them a bottle of plum brandy. "Just look at these tablecloths!" She rubbed the red satiny material between two of her fingers. "Isn't this just gorgeous?"

"It is," Natasha said. "Although I'm not overly found of the color red," she admitted. "Well, wearing it anyway. It looks nice on the tables though."

"Why don't you like the color red?" asked Rebecca. She could only imagine how stunning she would look in that color. Tonight she was wearing a simple black dress with bell sleeves. With her pale skin and scarlet lipstick it made her beauty seem almost unearthly, too much for this world to handle. Rebecca herself was wearing a sleeveless dark blue dress with yellow flowers. She hadn't been too sure of it at first, since it had a neckline that was a tad lower than what she was used to, but the way Natasha's eyes had widened in pleasure when she first saw it on her reassured her that it looked okay after all.

"One of the nicknames the KGB gave me is the Red Death," Natasha said wryly. "Kind of kills the enjoyment of wearing the color after that."

"Well," Rebecca said thoughtfully, "How about this...there's an old Chinese folklore about the magical connection between two people who are destined to be together."

"Destiny? You mean soul mates?" Natasha asked, her mouth turning up in an amused grin.

Rebecca took a sip of the plum brandy. It was deliciously sweet and heady, she could feel it sliding down her throat like a rush of liquid gold, spreading tendrils of warmth throughout her limbs. "Yes!" She said. And you know what that connection is called?"

Natasha shook her head.

"They call it 'the red string of fate,'" she announced triumphantly. "So see? Being associated with red isn't so bad."

"Okay," Natasha said with a smile, "Are we still playing that game from earlier? Is this a true story or a made up one?"

Rebecca held her hands up in surrender. "It's true, I promise!"

A slow smile spread across Natasha's face. "Can you really spin a positive light on anything? Maybe you **are** an Avenger after all and that's your superpower."

Rebecca shook with laughter. "The power of positivity. That would be something, wouldn't it?"

They pored over the menu, Rebecca puzzling over some of the entries and asking Natasha's help to describe some of them to her. Everything sounded so exotic and exciting, she wanted to try it all. She finally chose a pork goulash with wild chanterelle mushrooms. Natasha picked smoked pheasant in a savory red sauce with peppers. Everything tasted amazing, the unfamiliar spices mixed with the succulent meat combined with the present company made Rebecca feel that this dinner would be stamped onto her memory forever.

They finished their meals and despite Rebecca protesting that she was already quite full, Natasha ordered them something called ovocne knedliky for dessert, which ended up being sweet dumplings filled with blueberries with a generous dollop of cream on top. They were absolutely delicious.

Throughout the meal and somewhere around the second glass of brandy Rebecca became aware of a dull throbbing that started somewhere in the lower part of her body and seemed to travel up through the rest of her body in tiny pulses of desire. She couldn't remember the last time she had wanted someone so badly. The yearning to touch the other woman was so strong it made her want to cry, the pure _want_ behind it was so overwhelming it was almost a physical pain.

Everything seemed enhanced; edges seemed sharper, colors were brighter, the lights surrounding the rooftop terrace were surrounded by a soft, warm glow. Rebecca felt as if she was spinning through a haze of starlight and happiness.

"What was it like?" Natasha suddenly asked, curiously.

"What was what like?" Rebecca asked, tilting her head.

"Growing up and staying in basically the same place your whole life."

Rebecca opened her mouth to respond and then closed it, considering her answer. She knew Natasha wasn't teasing, she seemed genuinely curious. Rebecca thought about how Natasha was raised and it made her heart ache for her. A lonely little girl, growing up to be hardened into an assassin. And then she found Clint and Shield, and the Avengers. And they became her family. She smiled inwardly. They were alike in that respect. Well, aside from the assassin part anyway.

"Well," she said carefully, "There were good parts and bad parts to it, I suppose. Growing up in a small town, I definitely was raised with that 'small town vibe'. Everything was close, accessible, everyone knew everyone else." She grinned ruefully. "Of course that also meant everyone was in everyone else's business, which was highly annoying. Especially when I started experimenting with dating girls for the first time when I was sixteen."

Natasha winced. "How'd that go over?"

Rebecca shrugged, pausing to take a sip of her brandy. "My parents are hardcore religious, so not too well." She shook her head, as if to dispel bad memories. "But in any case, it was a very _stifling_ environment. Even moving a half hour away I could still feel the effects of it."

"You have an apartment, right?" Natasha asked.

 _For now,_ Rebecca thought. "Yes," she answered. Just a little place, really. I don't require too much space."

"I've never even had that," Natasha said, her voice growing more subdued. "Sure, I have a few places hidden away if I ever get in trouble. And they're basically just bunkers, places to lay low. But for the most part I live at the Shield compound, and wherever they send me for whatever mission they need more for. And before that...well, the only home I've ever known was the Red Room, the place where I was trained and raised." She laughed, but it sounded hollow to Rebecca's ears. "And how incredibly fucked up is that? That the only constant home I've ever known is the one that turned me into what I am today."

"And what is that?" asked Rebecca softly.

"A killer," Natasha said simply. "An assassin. A wanderer."

Rebecca felt her heart lurch with sympathy and love. "What happened to you, the way you were raised, was **not** your fault."

"Maybe not," she admitted. "But the things I've done Becks..." She looked up at her, and Rebecca saw the tears in her eyes. "You have no idea the things I've done."

"I can't imagine what you've been through," Rebecca said. "And the things that you've done, whatever they were, you did because of that upbringing in that place. And Natasha? That's all in the past. No matter how bad they might have been, the important thing, the **very** most important thing, is that you **know** they were wrong and moved on. Improved your life. And you **have**." She gestured to her. "Look at yourself! You're an Avenger! A hero! Saving lives and kicking bad guys asses! You've saved the world, what, like twice now? At least? That's billions and billions of lives saved. It doesn't matter what you _did_ , but rather who you _are_. And who you are is an amazing woman. A superhero." She shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed at her outburst. "Well, that's just my opinion anyway."

"It's an opinion I would like to believe," Natasha said, her eyes sparkling once more. "And maybe someday I'll even be able to forgive myself."

"I'm here you know," Rebecca said tentatively. "If you ever want to talk about it. Your past, I mean. I don't bring it up because I'm not one to pry. But I want you to know...anytime you want or need to talk about it, I'm here for you. Always." She couldn't go on further, her voice was choked with emotion. She was just completely overwhelmed with love and concern for the woman across the table from her.

"Jesus," Natasha said. "Why are **you** crying?"

"It must be the alcohol," Rebecca said as she cursed herself for being a coward and not telling her that she adored her. She blinked rapidly to prevent the tears that threatened to fall. "That and the fact that you bring out the sappy girly-girl in me."

Natasha laughed. "Oho!" She said. "Blaming it on me huh?" She winked at her.

Rebecca smiled. "You know," she said carefully, "Back to what you said earlier, about not having a home? I think that home doesn't have to be a place, necessarily. I think that it can also be...a person." She looked up into the other woman's eyes. "Someone who makes you feel safe and warm and comfortable and loved...you know?"

Natasha looked at her for a moment before smiling softly and nodding her head. "I never used to believe that," she said. "I always thought the notion of _home_ was some elusive place I needed to find. Some kind of safe haven I could build for myself, by myself." She reached out and laid her hand on top of Rebecca's. "But I'm beginning to think you might be right, kitten. Maybe what I've been looking for has been right in front of me for quite some time now, and I've just been too blind to see it."

"It's never too late," Rebecca said smiling.

"I love the way you look at me," Natasha said suddenly, quietly, "like I'm the only person in the room, as if you have eyes only for me."

"That's because I do," Rebecca admitted. "I can't seem to focus on anything or anyone else but you when you're around." _And even when you're not around,_ she thought.

They finished their dessert and the rest of the brandy, paid the check (which ended up not being nearly as much as Rebecca had expected), and walked out into the night and onto the streets of the city.

...

They were both silent on their walk back to the hotel. A cool breeze ruffled their dresses and Rebecca moved closer to Natasha, threading her arm through hers and delighting in the warmth of their proximity. She looked up. The stars seemed especially beautiful.

They still hadn't spoken once they had gotten to the hotel. But as soon as they were in the elevator Natasha turned to her, smiled and said softly, "Come here." The way she said it sent small fluttering sensations through the pit of Rebecca's stomach.

Rebecca walked over to her, almost shyly, and Natasha took her in her arms, tilting her head back and kissing her softly, slowly. She slipped her tongue in her mouth and Rebecca was awash in a sea of sensations; the feel of the silky material of Natasha's dress as she ran her hands along her back, the sudden heat that filled the elevator, the sweet musk of Natasha's perfume as their skin brushed each other, the taste of plum and cloves on her tongue. It was intoxicating.

The heat that pulsed between them was maddening. It was turning all the sweetness and soft caresses into a hard, and immediate _need_.

As soon as they were in their room Natasha slammed her up against the door and kissed her, again and again and again. It was beyond mutual affection, beyond desire. It was blind passion, the complete yearning to dominate. Rebecca could taste the sharp metallic tang of blood in her mouth as they used their tongues and teeth and lips on each other, their kisses reaching wilder and darker depths than ever before.

Rebecca felt the other woman's breasts pressed against her chest. She slipped her hand between them and grabbed her breast, rubbing a hardened nipple overtop of her clothes. Natasha opened her lips to gasp, and Rebecca took the opportunity to thrust her tongue back in her mouth, stealing all trace of words and breath.

"I wanted this to be romantic," Natasha gasped out between kisses. "Beautiful." She growled as Rebecca bit her shoulder. "Champagne. Rose petals on the sheets. Candles. Music playing in the background. Should we stop?"

Rebecca let out a strangled, breathless laugh. "If you stop what you're doing for anything other than taking your clothes off I might scream." She tightened her hand in Natasha's hair, pulling her head back so she could look into her eyes. "And believe me, it's going to be beautiful no matter what."

Natasha grinned, the few locks of hair hanging in her eyes making her look feral and mischievous. "Good. We have forever to be romantic. And I honestly _can't_ stop right now. I can't stop touching you. I think I'll die if I stop."

Rebecca understood. They had pushed this tension between them too far for too long. It had started with sparks. And then electricity. Now it was to the point where she wouldn't be surprised if either of them caught on fire. But she kept hearing Natasha's words echoing in her head, _forever, forever, forever to be romantic_. Forever? Her eyes filled with tears as she pulled Natasha's head back up to hers to kiss her once more. Natasha grabbed Rebecca's leg and hoisted it around her waist, pressing even tighter to her. Rebecca's dress slid up her thigh another few inches and Natasha raked her nails down the exposed flesh, and the thrill of the dance between pain and pleasure made her shudder. She bit down in Natasha's lip and tightened her grip in her hair.

Natasha pressed against her even harder as she slipped one hand behind her waist to steady her and with the other deftly lifted Rebecca's other leg around her waist. With a jolt Rebecca realized she was being held up against the wall by Natasha without any help from her at all. She squeezed her thighs, tightening her grip around Natasha's waist and eliciting a low moan from the other woman.

 _Jesus, she's strong_! Rebecca thought lucidly as they continued to kiss while she remained pinned against the wall. _Of course she's strong, dumbass. I've watched her throw grown men across the room. This must be nothing compared to that._ A hysterical laugh almost burst from her throat at the thought.

Suddenly Natasha froze, her hand paused more than halfway up Rebecca's thigh.

"What?" Rebecca asked. "What's wrong?"

"Are you...not wearing any panties?"

Rebecca grinned, embarrassed. "Nope. I meant to mention that earlier, to tease you about it, and then I completely forgot. I'm not wearing a bra either," she confessed.

Natasha tightened her hold around her waist and lifted her off the wall, spinning her around causing Rebecca to squeak and wrap her arms around her neck, clutching her even tighter. She carried her over to the bed and unceremoniously dropped her on top eliciting another squeak. Suddenly, before she even had a chance to catch her breath Natasha was on top of her.

"Sorry," she said that low husky voice that Rebecca was sure would drag her to the brink of insanity, "But I just can't wait any longer."

Rebecca could feel her dress rubbing against Natasha's and decided that she was sick to death of clothes. She reached behind Natasha and undid the button holding the top of her dress together. There was a small zipper underneath that and she slid it down, allowing Natasha to sit up and pull it all the way off. She pulled her own dress and tossed it aside.

 _She wasn't kidding about the black lace_ , Rebecca thought with wonder. The moonlight shone in through the window, illuminating the marble paleness of her body, her curves and edges accentuated by the tiny black lace thong and bra.

"I want you to watch me," Natasha whispered. "And want me."

"I've never wanted anything more than I want you right now," Rebecca whispered back. As she stared, Natasha slowly undid the clasp to her bra and threw it on the floor. She rose to her knees and slipped off her panties, adding them to the floor as well. Even if she had been blind, Rebecca was fairly certain she would have been able to see her.

She was just that radiant.

Rebecca rose to her knees in front of her, and traced her fingers across her face, along her neck, and down to her breasts, which were tender and supple and lush. Her nipples were rosy pink against the snowy-white of her skin. She cupped them both, squeezing first gently, and then harder. Natasha groaned softly. Rebecca looked in her eyes and saw something that nearly undid her. There was desire there, certainly, and hunger. But there was also a tiny bit of shyness, of vulnerability. Without even having to hear her say it, she could tell Natasha was slightly nervous. Slightly afraid of not measuring up, somehow. It wasn't anything she would have ever expected to see in her eyes, and she felt her heart nearly overflow with love and adoration for this woman. This strong and sensitive woman, this bold woman who was both a confusing and intoxicating force.

She leaned forward so that the tip of her nose was touching Natasha's. "You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she said honestly. "I want to taste you."

Natasha trembled, her eyelids fluttering with the thrill of anticipation. And Rebecca took the opportunity to lay her down on her back, the gold bedspread making her look like some kind of feral queen.

The hunger for her went bone deep, she could feel it resonating through every cell in her body. And it wasn't just the physical act itself that she ached for. She wanted to linger over every inch of skin that she uncovered, to know this woman inside and out. Explore every secret, expose every molecule, until she was laid bare before her.

She laid small tender kisses across the landscape of her body, mapping a trail of pleasure and heat that she knew she would never forget. She ran her tongue across the surface of her nipples, laving them with her tongue and teasing them with her teeth until Natasha cried out, over and over again.

Stars of sweat collected on Natasha's neck and Rebecca harvested them with her tongue, like precious jewels.

She spread her thighs, let her tongue delve into the soft, silky wet folds of her sex, and felt Natasha's hand slide to the back of her head, tightening a grip in her hair. Rebecca bit one thigh playfully, but hard enough to leave a mark. Natasha jolted, her other hand grabbing a handful of the cloth bedspread as she hissed, "Oh god, please don't stop. _Please_."

Rebecca licked every fold before encircling the round pearl of her clitoris with her lips, sucking gently. Natasha tried to buck her off but Rebecca had a firm grip on her thigh. She reached up with her free hand and found Natasha's, threading her fingers through hers and gripping tightly. She flicked the tiny nub with her tongue once, twice, slowly, before gradually picking up speed, alternating every few flicks with a dive of her tongue into her sheathe. She could hear Natasha panting, cursing softly in Russian as her grip tightened in Rebecca's hair even tighter and she thrust her hips against her mouth in a rhythm of frenzied desire. "I'm coming," she cried out, her voice as high and emotional as an angel's shriek.

 _Yes, baby, yes._ Rebecca dug her nails into Natasha's thighs and worked her tongue even faster until she felt a tremor shake throughout her entire body, making her spine arch off the bed. She cried out Rebecca's name as the orgasm rocked her body to her core, her fist in her hair now so tight Rebecca thought she was going to see stars. Natasha trembled, shuddered, and then finally grew still. Rebecca rubbed a finger across her mouth, relishing one last flowery taste before stretching out next to her, laying her head on her chest and relishing the sound of her heart beating a mile a minute against her ear. Natasha turned slightly towards her, kissing Rebecca's forehead and running a hand through her hair gently, massaging her scalp in slow and steady circles.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Natasha said gently, her lips still gently pressed against her forehead.

"Don't be stupid," Rebecca replied. "I'm clearly the lucky one in this relationship."

"Did you just call me stupid?" Natasha asked teasingly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am," Rebecca replied, trying to stifle a giggle. Was there anyone in the whole world who was as happy as she was right now?

"I actually can't believe you made me come first," Natasha said, chuckling with disbelief.

Rebecca smiled in the darkness. "I wasn't aware that it was a competition. So I guess this means I win?"

Natasha slid out from her embrace. Rebecca let out a soft noise of protest until Natasha leaned back down and silenced her with a kiss. She pulled about an inch away from her lips and whispered, "Little kitten, this isn't over. And I _never_ lose."

She straddled Rebecca's waist, pinning both arms behind her head while she marked her body with long, lingering kisses of her own as she took possession of her. Her lips were hot, and each touch to her skin was like a fiery comet. She felt scorched. With every kiss she pressed against Rebecca's skin she seemed to be saying, _mine, you're mine now_. Rebecca felt as if she were being consumed by a tidal wave; deadly and unstoppable, and heart achingly beautiful. _Yes,_ her own pleasured gasps seemed to cry out, _yes, I am yours, yours, I am all yours._ Their heartbeats were almost synchronized. It was hard to tell whose heart was whose, where one of them ended and the other began.

"This is where I find out whether all that shyness and breathlessness, and all those heated stares you've been giving me were just for show," she whispered. She slid her thumb slowly across her heated sex, and Rebecca moaned at the shock of it, of the electrifying feeling of Natasha's touch.

"Yes," Natasha hissed. "Oh, _yes_ , kitten, yes. You are soaking wet. Is that for me?"

Rebecca attempted to answer but it came out as a sort of strangled moan.

Natasha grinned. "I'll take that as a yes?" Her finger found the round nub she was seeking and ran slow and firm circles around it. "You're so wet, Rebecca, _fuck_ ," she said huskily. "Tell me kitten, are you as tight as you are wet?

Rebecca thought her eyes were going to roll back in her head.

"Do you know what I want to do to you?"

Rebecca tried to grind her hips harder against Natasha's ministrations, but she was held in place firmly by Natasha's other hand on her hip.

"I want to tear down that shyness you hide behind and electrify you. That wall of polite reserve? It's coming down. And I'm going to be the one to do it. You are _so_ beautiful, kitten. There is a wildness in you along with intellect and compassion all wrapped up in your tight, sweet little body. I want to ravage you to pieces and then put you back together again." She paused. "I want every part of you to be mine." And with that she slid a finger past Rebecca's folds and into her core.

Rebecca gasped. The sudden intimacy of it, of having another person inside her, of being filled, was almost too much to handle in her state of over heightened arousal. Natasha slipped her finger in even deeper, moving in and out slowly. Rebecca couldn't move, she was paralyzed by wave after wave of pleasure.

 _I'm going to die_ , Rebecca thought, with the still functioning part of her brain. _This feels so good that I am actually going to die_.

Natasha slid a second finger in as she began picking up speed with each plunge. Rebecca could feel her muscles tighten around her fingers as she matched her rhythm, grinding against Natasha's hand.

"Oh, you _are_ tight," Natasha cooed. With each thrust she flicked the end of her fingers, catching her deeper and deeper each time. She mewled at the sensation.

She couldn't help it, her body had been a tight ball of sexual tension and need for weeks now, and too far too soon she felt an orgasm starting to build from the center of her being, and she tried to pull back, to get Natasha to slow down. She didn't want it to be over, to _ever_ be over.

"Oh no you don't kitten," Natasha practically growled as held her in place with a grip like steel. "There's no slow going, not tonight. You're going to come fast and you're going to come hard and you're going to come for **me**. And she quickened her thrusts even further.

It crashed over her like a tidal wave. Every nerve in her was alive with ecstasy. She was dimly aware of crying out loudly, but her voice sounded far away, like it was coming from someone else.

As her body began to relax she became aware of Natasha laying next to her, staring at her with a satisfied smile on her face. "Well." she said.

Rebecca licked her lips. "Well...what?"

She scooted closer, nuzzling her head into the crook of Rebecca's arm. "Well?"

Rebecca smiled. "Well...I don't actually have words to convey what that just was." And it was true. She wanted to wax eloquent about how amazing Natasha had been, how explosive the whole experience was, but words just seemed to be somehow...not enough."

She could feel Natasha smile against her shoulder. "Those were my thoughts, exactly."

...

When Rebecca woke up in the morning, for a brief moment she couldn't account for the happiness that seemed to hum throughout her whole body. And then she remembered. With a grin she stretched sleepily and rolled over to wrap her arm around Natasha.

And found the bed empty.

She frowned, rubbing her eyes wearily. She couldn't recall Natasha leaving at any point, but then again she had been sleeping pretty soundly. It was the first time in a long time that she had slept so well. She sat up and stretched, and grinned when she saw the jumble of clothes that were still on the floor from the night before. She padded to the bathroom, catching sight of herself in the mirror on the way to the shower. Her hair had tangles in it that she wasn't sure would ever come out, her lips were swollen from kissing, and there was a dark purple love bite just above her collarbone.

She grinned.

Last night was officially the best night of her life.

She brushed her teeth and cleaned herself up in the shower, and by the time she got out Natasha was back in the room.

"Oh good, you're back!" Rebecca said happily.

Natasha blatantly ran her eyes all along her body, and Rebecca blushed as she realized she was only wearing her towel. She walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, bending her head forward to dry her hair with another towel.

"I just stepped out to pick up some breakfast for us," she said as she laid a paper bag on the small table by the television. "Some scones and fruit. How does that sound?"

"Divine actually," sighed Rebecca. "I am absolutely starving." She watched Natasha walk around the room out of the corner of her eye. She supposed that initially she had been afraid that after all the tension that built up between them, that after they had had sex for the first time the tension would be amped down to a more manageable level. She was sorely mistaken. It had actually gotten _worse_ , somehow, now that the memory of the touch and taste of her body was seared onto her heart. Every movement Natasha made, whether it be a tilt of the head, the way she walked, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the way her clothes captured the curves of her body, that struck her numb with desire all over again.

Natasha paused across the room, catching her not so subtle staring. With a grin she walked over to her. She leaned over a pressed a kiss to the back of her bare neck. "Mmmm," she said. "You smell really good."

Rebecca sighed happily. "So do you," she said. "It's very...enticing." She leaned back and turned her head around, capturing her lips in a kiss.

"That reminds me," Natasha said a few moments mischievously as she pulled away. "I picked up something else when I was out."

"I hope it's some tea," Rebecca said wistfully.

Natasha reached into the bag and pulled out a long scarlet red ribbon.

Rebecca looked at it in confusion. "Um. It's pretty? But I thought you didn't like to wear the color red?"

Natasha's smile broadened. "It's not for me, it's for you."

"For me?" She asked, surprised but still slightly confused. What did she want her to do with it? Wear it?

Seeing her befuddled state, Natasha grinned and walked back over to the bed. "Just think of it as the 'red string of fate', like in that story you told me last night. Lie back," she said. "Put your arms above your head."

Rebecca did so, and the towel she was wearing slipped a little. She squirmed, trying to cover herself back up with it.

"Oh, there's no need for that," Natasha said as she pulled it away and tossed it on the edge of the bed, exposing her whole body. With deft fingers she used the ribbon to tie Rebecca's wrists to the bottom of the headboard. She took a step back to admire her handiwork with a devious smile. Rebecca felt herself flush from head to toe. There was something very intimate and arousing about being so exposed, especially without the cover of night.

Rebecca grunted softly and pulled lightly on her bonds, then again using more force. No good. She was stuck tight. Involuntarily she felt her nipples grow hard. _Damn traitorous body_ , she thought.

"Don't bother struggling," Natasha said lightly. "You won't be getting out of that until I let you out."

Rebecca licked her lips. "So what happens now?"

Natasha walked slowly over to her suitcase and brought it over to the bed. She pulled out something from the recesses of the bag and held it up for Rebecca to see. It was a strap on, the appendage on the end light purple in color with a slight deliciously wicked curve. Rebecca's mouth went dry, as she suspected all the fluid in her rushed to the lower regions of her body.

"Now," Natasha said, "I'm going to put this on and fuck you with it."

Rebecca's mouth parted and she let out a tiny moan. The sound of those crude words coming from so sweet a mouth, knowing what was going to happen next, was almost too much for her to handle.

"Do you want this?" Natasha asked darkly.

"Yes," Rebecca pleaded. "Oh god, please _yes_ Natasha, _yes_.

"I do so love it when you beg, kitten," she said as she slipped out of her clothes and put on the strap on. She crawled into bed with her and slid a finger across her slit. Rebecca felt like she should be embarrassed at how wet she already was, but she was passed caring about any such things at this point.

"You are just like a miracle, how wet you get, kitten," Natasha said huskily. "Knowing that I get you this how is almost enough to get me to come without even having to touch me."

Rebecca pulled against her bonds, desperate to touch Natasha, to run her hands over her body, cup that delicious ass, lick those gorgeous nipples. Being held entirely at her mercy was the sweetest of tortures.

Natasha chuckled. "I love having you like this, your body so soft and eager and responsive. Are you ready for me? Are you ready for me to fuck you?"

"YES," Rebecca screamed. She spread her legs apart as far as she could, her body a veritable mass of hot, pulsing, need.

Natasha grabbed her hips and guided the end of the member into her, sheathing her completely in one fluid movement. Rebecca gasped, then bucked as Natasha began to thrust in and out of her at a steady, quickening pace.

She loved the feeling of Natasha on top of her, their breasts pressed against each other as she utterly dominated her. She wished her hands were free so she could runs her nails across her back, wrap her arms around her and pull her even closer. But she also _loved_ being bound. She had never trusted anyone enough before to ever let them do such a thing to her. But with Natasha...knowing she was completely at her mercy was the most arousing sensation she had ever experienced.

Natasha's hair was in Rebecca's face, she could smell the flowery musk of the perfume on her skin, she the hard green emeralds of her eyes as she fucked her. Rebecca lifted her head slightly and captured her lips in a kiss, making sure to bite her bottom lip hard before pulling away.

Natasha growled and increased her pace even faster, harder. She reached down with one hand and began flicking Rebecca's clitoris with her thumb as she continued to thrust.

Rebecca came so hard and so fast that she could have sworn she saw stars. The last thing she remembered was Natasha kissing her forehead before her eyes fluttered shut in overwhelming ecstasy.

...

 _I would sell my soul to be able to stay in this bed all day_ , Rebecca thought happily. Last night and then this morning had surpassed all previous expectations she might have ever harbored about sex. _I never in my whole life thought that anything could feel so good, be so fulfilling_. Of course, that had been before she had met Natasha.

They had lounged in bed together after their most recent bout of lovemaking, naked limbs wrapped around each other in sweet surrender. Natasha kissed the red marks on Rebecca's wrists where she had been bound.

"I did tell you not to struggle so much," she said as she ran her tongue across the slightly bruised skin. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I promise I won't always be that rough. I do know how to be sweet too, you know."

Rebecca laughed. "Don't apologize, I _liked_ it. Still do, as a matter of fact." She lifted up her writs. "Battle wounds are always a source of pride!"

"Battle wounds!?" Natasha said, sounding mockingly scandalized. "I'll show you battle wounds!" She tickled Rebecca's stomach and thighs until they were both laughing insatiably.

When they finally dragged themselves out of bed, and shared a late breakfast _or was it early lunch_ of cold scones and tepid fruit, Rebecca was dismayed to see that it was almost one o'clock in the afternoon.

Rebecca munched on a scone as she crawled back in bed, watching Natasha get ready for the President's party. She knew she should get up, but she wanted another few minutes of respite, to enjoy the sweet ache in her limbs. That sore fatigue that came from really fantastic lovemaking.

"How do I look?" Natasha said as she slipped on her belt, completing her outfit. Despite it falling under the category of undercover, Maria had explicitly instructed Natasha to wear her Black Widow uniform rather than dressing down. She wanted Shield's presence known. It was the only second time Rebecca had seen her wearing it, the first time being that day they first met, in the training room. In their times together, Rebecca had ceased to think of Natasha as the Black Widow, despite knowing that she still was. To her, she was simply Natasha. The woman she had fallen in love with. Her eyes widened at she took her in. It was the tight black leather, the Widow bracers, all things she had seen before, but it was something else too. It was like Natasha slipped on her Widow persona with the uniform. She seemed more serious, more like a spy, a Shield agent. Natasha Romanoff was gone, here stood the Black Widow. And yet they were the same person. The Widow was just the role she played. Natasha was the woman behind all of that. And Rebecca was completely flabbergasted that this woman trusted her enough to show her the real person she was underneath all the rules and the roles and the assignments. It was dizzying. She was in a relationship with an Avenger. She was sleeping with the Black Widow. She was in love with Natasha Romanoff. It was so completely overwhelming that she thought her heart would explode. _I really am the luckiest girl in the world,_ Rebecca thought with humility.

"You look...amazing," she said. "Incredibly badass."

Natasha smiled, and the Black Widow persona shifted just a bit, showing the real woman underneath. "Yeah?"

Rebecca shivered. "Most definitely."

"Good." She walked over and kissed her lingeringly on the lips. "I'll be back pretty late. You'll be okay?"

Rebecca nodded. "Of course. I'm going to see some more of the city, since we're leaving tomorrow. I'll be fine. Will you be okay? Make sure you're careful."

Natasha winked. "I'm always careful. See you later on, kitten," she said as she turned and walked out of the door, making sure to lock it tightly behind her.

Rebecca sat staring at the door for a moment, already missing her, still tingling all over from that last kiss.

...

She laid in bed another few minutes before forcing herself to get up and get dressed. She splashed some water on her face and brushed her hair and despite the sweet ache in her body she began to feel somewhat normal again. She grabbed a paperback book and her guidebook and, after stuffing them in her bag, took off out of the hotel and onwards to her own solitary adventure in Prague.

She decided to venture outside of Little Quarter, since her and Natasha had covered alot of that the previous day. She was most excited about finally getting to walk across the Charles Bridge. It was one of the oldest bridges in the world, apparently it had finished being constructed in the early fourteen hundreds. The weather was slightly cooler today, the faint breeze keeping the humid air from being too unbearable. Despite wishing Natasha was with her, she found it exhilirating to be on her own, able to explore whatever she wanted, at her own pace. And there was so much to see! Just on the bridge alone she could have wandered for hours. The view was spectacular. She could easily see Old Town and the Jewish Quarter on the other side as she walked. And when she twirled around and looked behind her she could see the rest of Little Quarter spanning out behind her. The bridge was immensely crowded, and she dipped and weaved in between other tourists to get a good look at all the baroque statues carved alomg the walkway.

Once she was over the bridge and into Old Town she rented a bicycle from one of the kiosks that Natasha had told her about. This section of the city was _huge_ and she wanted to make sure she could get to where she was going in a timely manner. Plus, she loved riding bikes. There was just something exhilirating about riding as fast as your legs could peddle you, the wind whipping through your hair and across your face. It was almost magical.

From there she visited the Estates Theatre which had been built in the late seventeen hundreds. She followed a tour group in, wide eyed and mouth hung open and she knew she looked a bit moronic but she found she just didn't give a damn. So many famous works of musical masterpieces had been preformed here over the years, including Don Giovanni which had been preformed by Mozart himself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was standing and breathing in the same spot of so many musical geniuses. And how utterly cool was that? A piece of dust must have gotten caught in her lungs because she began to cough explosively drawing the reproachful glare of an elderly lady in a nearby tourist group. Stifling a fit of giggles, she walked out of the theatre.

She saved the place she was most excited about for last. She had read about Old Town Hall, which was basically the center of town, ages ago in a book and had been dreaming of seeing it someday. She pedaled through the large square, gazing in awe at the rows and rows of colorful gothic and renaissance buildings, stopping from time to time to wander in a trinket shop or a booksellers store. She purchased an old book written in Chezch for a momento for herself. _And who cares if I can't read the language_? She thought with a smile as she left the store, her newly begotten treasure clutched to her chest. _I might someday learn. And what better thing to bring home from journey than a book?_

She rode over to the gem of the city, the town hall clock and stood looking at it for at least fifteen minutes, her eyes glassing over with wonder. It was one of the most gorgeous structures she had ever seen. It towered over her, and was an exquisite piece of machinery, having been created in the begining of the fifteenth century. The best part of the clock however was the astronomical clock, which contained animated figures that moved and dials that represented the movements of the sun and moon. She had never seen anything like it in her life.

By the time she was done touring Old Town Hall, darkness was beginning to fall over the city. As the twinkling streetlamps began to illuminate, Rebecca followed the enticing scents wafting from a few nearby street stalls. She ordered a klobasy sandwich in a roll, which ended up being a sort of sausage with spices. She got a dark beer to wash it down with. It was delicious. She ate and drank her meal sitting on a brick wall near the center of the square, watching the stars start to come out. Once twilight began to darken even further into night she returned the bike she had rented and walked back over the bridge to her hotel.

...

Once she got back to the hotel she attempted to work on her book for awhile, but she just couldn't seem to concentrate. She felt restless somehow, too full of thoughts and emotions to keep still. She found a bottle of red wine in the mini fridge and poured herself a glass and sat in a chair by the window with her paperback novel. She lost herself in the story for a short amount of time before finding herself yawning every few words. She looked at the clock on her phone. Almost eleven and Natasha was still out. Well, she did warn her that she would probably be late. She wondered how the party was going. She wondered if she was safe. She rubbed her eyes. She might as well take a shower before heading to bed. There was no telling how late Natasha was going to get back.

As she let the hot water run all over her, working all the soreness out of her muscles and relaxing her, she sighed heavily. Tomorrow they would be leaving and heading home. As much as she missed Clint and Wanda and the others (and yes, Tony too) she also wished their time in Prague would never end. It had truly been a trip of a lifetime.

With a start she heard the bathroom door open and a familiar voice say, "Very dangerous to leave this door unlocked kitten."

Rebecca chuckled. "As if you couldn't get past any lock that was on that door."

Silence. And then, "Okay, fair point."

"How was the party?" Rebecca asked.

"Ridiculously boring," Natasha grumped. "Any level three Shield agent could have handled it. And if I had to plaster that fake smile on my face one more time I thought I was going to scream."

"Well, at least it's over with," Rebecca said. "I'm...glad you got back okay." Suddenly she realized what that restlessness had been earlier. She was worried about her. Now that she was here, safe, with her again, she felt whole once more. She wondered if this was part of what it meant to be in love with an Avenger. Always worried about the danger they put themselves in.

"I'm glad to be back, Becks." She paused. "I found that poem on the bed. Was that for me?"

Rebecca grinned. She had poetry on the brain ever since arriving in Prague. She thought it would be cute to write out one of her favorites for her to find. Although she figured she wouldn't see it until after she had fallen asleep, much later on. "Of course it's for you. It wasn't for the maid, obviously."

"Haha," Natasha said drily. "Here, I'll read it aloud;"

" _'N_ _ow_ _I am all one bowl of kisses,_  
 _Such as the tall slim votaresses_  
 _Of Egypt filled for a god's excesses._  
 _I lift to you my bowl of kisses,_  
 _And through the temple's blue recesses_  
 _Cry out to you in wild caresses._  
 _And to my lips' bright crimson rim_  
 _The passion slips, and down my slim_  
 _White body drips the shining hymn._  
 _And still before the altar_  
 _I exult the bowl brimful, and cry_  
 _To you to stoop and drink, Most High._  
 _Oh drink me up that I may be_  
 _Within your cup like a mystery,_  
 _Like wine that is still in ecstasy._  
 _Glimmering still in ecstasy,_  
 _Commingled wines of you and me_  
 _In one fulfill The mystery.'"_

"It's lovely," Natasha said as she finished. "Who wrote it?"

"D.H Lawrence. It's always been one of my favorites. Although I never quite knew what it meant until very recently." _Like last night, recently_ , she thought.

"Well you have good taste, kitten."

Rebecca laughed lightly. "I'll say."

Suddenly the shower curtain pulled back and Natasha got in with her. Rebecca let out a little yelp at the sudden not unwelcome intrusion. She hadn't even heard her undress. _Well, that's a spy for you,_ the lost rational thought in her head sounded before being starstruck with the reality of Natasha's perfectly formed body.

"Turn around," Natasha said softly. Rebecca did so and felt Natasha slowly lathering her hair with shampoo, taking her time, running her fingers over every bit of her hair while softly massaging her scalp. Her hair fell to the middle of her back, so it took quite some time. After that, they took the strawberry scented bodywash and washed each other, running their hands and fingers over every inch of skin. The warmth of their bodies and the heat from the steam, the pattering of the water from the shower, the gentle kisses they laid on each others lips, lent to the whole experience a hypnotic sublime sort of wonder that felt out of time.

If she had been a religious person she would have almost called it holy.

...

When they stepped out of the bedroom Rebecca saw a small pink candle burning on the nightstand next to the bed. It gave off a soft, warm cinnamon type scent, and lit the room with a subdued glow.

"It seems I'm not the only romantic one," Rebecca said, her heart filling with inexplicable joy. She kissed Natasha's neck.

"Mmmm," Natasha murmured softly. "It's our secret, yeah?"

"Wouldn't dream of telling a soul," Rebecca said as she led her to bed.

There was a sort of beautiful joy to it. A drowsy intimacy when a lovers body is as accessible to you as you own, the delightful shapes and textures of it suddenly like an extension of your own limbs.

"You know what my favorite part of your body is?" Rebecca asked, quite some time later. The candle had long since burned out, and the room was cozy in its darkness and the familiarity of their bodies.

Natasha smiled lazily and stretched languidly, like a well pleased cat. "I bet I could make a pretty educated guess."

"Nope," Rebecca said, giggling. "It's not what you're thinking." She touched the small hollow at the base of Natasha's throat. "It's right here." Leaning over, she pressed the tip of her tongue in the tiny cleft. She could feel Natasha's heartbeat pulsing steadily against her tongue. "It's called the sternal notch," she said. "Isn't that interesting?"

"Mmm..." Natasha replied. "Kotkyu?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"You talk too much." She pulled Rebecca's head down and silenced her by pressing her lips against hers.

...

The following morning was a flurry of activity as they quickly packed their bags and checked out of their hotel. They took one last walk through Mals Strana, stopping at the Bohemia Bagel Cafe for a small breakfast of bagels and hot tea before taking a taxi back to the airport.

The plane ride back, despite it being just as long as the trip there, seemed to pass by in a blur. Rebecca figured it was because she didn't want their time together to end. _But it isn't ending,_ she thought as she looked at Natasha sometime during the flight and saw her smile back. _It's actually just beginning._

"Figures we'd get back in the middle of a damn heat wave," Natasha said as they got out of Rebecca's car once they had reached the Avenger's compound. Rebecca was just grateful her car had been intact when they got there. She had heard horror stories about cars being left in airports. They sighed with relief once they were inside the air-conditioned facility. Rebecca saw a figure approaching them from the main corridor. She assumed it was Maria, wanting to go over the mission with Natasha. But she was pleasantly surprised to see it was a different friendly face.

"Hey little chickadee, how was your trip?"

"Clint!" Rebecca ran up and hugged him. "It. Was. Fantastic! I got to see the Old Town Hall clock!"

He grimaced. "Wow. Yeah. A clock. Sounds riveting."

Natasha came up and bumped shoulders with him. "Hey Clint. Missed you."

A ghost of a smile traced his mouth. "I missed you guys too. Hey," he asked, turning to Rebecca. "What's with the ribbon?" he asked.

Rebecca touched the end of the scarlet ribbon she had used to tie her hair back into a ponytail. "Oh, this?" she said casually. "It's just a little thing I've grown quite attached to."

Natasha coughed discreetly.

"Yeah, I don't even want to know what that's about, do I?" Clint asked in a monotone voice.

"Nope," Natasha said as Rebecca said, "Definitely not," at the same time.

Clint rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. "Look, I didn't want to bombard you guys the minute you got in, but I wanted to be the one to talk to you first." He paused, looking at them both. "Have you guys been watching the news today? At all?"

"The news?" Rebecca asked, confusedly looking at Natasha. "No, we haven't. But we've been on a plane practically all day, remember?"

"What's wrong? What's happened?" Natasha asked him grimly.

Clint sighed. "Come with me," he said, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of any humor. "You're both going to want to see this."

~*~ To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

**"The world is blowing up**  
 **The world is caving in**  
 **The world has lost her way again**  
 **But you are here with me**  
 **But you are here with me**  
 **Makes it ok**

 **I love you oh so well**  
 **Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow**  
 **I love you oh so well**  
 **Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell**  
 **Love you oh so well..."** (Dave Matthews Band)

Rebecca's first immediate thought was that there had been another attack in some city somewhere. Another alien invasion maybe? Or another army of robots led by some artificial intelligent megalomaniac? But...no. Even without having seen the news while they were away she was sure they would have heard about it, of something of that nature had happened. People would have been talking about it, there would have been some sort of public outcry and they would have been made aware of it somehow. No, this was something else, this was something that felt somehow...personal.

"Is everybody okay?" Rebecca asked tentatively. She was almost afraid of the answer. Surely someone would have let them know if something bad had happened to someone at the compound.

Seeing her expression, Clint said hastily, "Oh yeah, everyone's okay. It's nothing like that."

"Then what **is** it like?" Natasha asked, her voice as calm and brittle as a piece of glass. Rebecca recognized it as her professional voice.

Clint looked back and forth between the two of them. "It's hard to explain," he said sheepishly. "But it affects you both, and probably your book too, Becks."

Thoroughly bewildered, Rebecca looked at Natasha who simply shrugged.

"It's better if I show you," he said. With this he turned and headed towards the Avenger's part of the compound, followed by the two women.

As they walked through the corridors, Rebecca replayed moments from their few days in Prague, committing every delightful moment to memory. She had the sneaking suspicion that whatever was going on was going to require every once of her will and fortitude and she knew that if need be, she could drum up thoughts of the special time together they shared to help her get through it. Nat looked at her, gave her a small smile and winked at her. Rebecca's heart filled with warmth. She also knew that no matter what happened, as long as they had each other, they could get through anything.

Together.

When they walked into the living room they saw Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Wanda seated around the TV, watching intently. The only one who looked up as they entered was Wanda, who raised her hand in greeting and smiled warmly. But Rebecca could see that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked worried. Rebecca felt a sliver of fear slide through her gut.

She turned her eyes to the television. It didn't seem like anything earth shattering. Some kind of sort of famous journalist on a talk show? She recognized him vaguely, had caught his program in passing every now and again, but wasn't overly familiar with him to even recall his name easily. One name she _did_ hear however, was the one that he was saying now; _Natasha Romanoff_. There was a grainy image of her girlfriend on the screen behind him, with a caption underneath reading, **Deadly Menace?**

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. Rebecca couldn't help it. She let out a gasp that seemed to cut through the silence in the room like a bullet.

Finally Bruce and Tony looked away from the screen to where she and Natasha were standing. Tony raised an eyebrow questioningly and Bruce looked mildly startled by her outburst. Steve's eyes never left the screen. Her gaze sympathetic, Wanda slid over on the couch and Rebecca and Natasha sat down next to her.

"The Black Widow," the journalist was saying, "used to work as a spy and assassin for the Russian KGB. This we all know. The files that were released to American government agencies have been made public to the press and media, and subsequently society in general. But what we **don't** know, is how deep does this run? What other secrets has the Black Widow kept from us? And whose side is she really on?"

Without turning her head, without letting her eyes stray from the TV, Rebecca reached over for Natasha's hand, blindly seeking to give the other woman support and comfort. Natasha let her, intertwining her fingers with her own in silence. Her hand was ice cold. Rebecca, in contrast, felt as if she was made of lava; burning, bubbling, destructive, lava. Anger began to pulsate through her whole body as soon as the realization of what she was actually seeing began to wash over her. A smear campaign. A media smear campaign against her girlfriend.

"We put our trust in these Avengers, these so called...heroes," the journalist continued. And we put our trust in Shield. And where did that get us? It got us Hydra. It got us the destruction of Sokovia. It got us mistrust and lies and secrets."

Beside her, she could hear Wanda swearing softly in Ukrainian. She put her other hand on Wanda's knee, squeezing it gently to let her know it was okay. She felt her relax slightly beneath her touch. She was sitting sandwiched between her girlfriend and her best friend. It made this...somehow slightly easier to bear. Although she wasn't entirely sure who was comforting who.

The journalists eyes were alight with self righteous frenzy. "If these people take matters into their own hands in an attempt to **protect** us, they should be held accountable for their pasts and their present actions. Do we even need people like this protecting us? In the end, don't they do more harm then good? How can we trust them?"

The television suddenly turned off. Rebecca looked up, startled, to see the remote in Steve's hand. "I think we've seen enough," he said quietly. He laid the remote down on the coffee table and folded his hands together thoughtfully. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Why?" Wanda asked angrily. "Why this? And why now?" Rebecca was wondering the same thing. Where had this even **come** from?

"If I were to guess," Bruce said as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily before putting them back on, "I would say that it's been a while since we've been the topic of dissent in the media, and so they decided to stir things up again. Like dumping a bucket of chum into the sea to get the sharks going." He shrugged. "Same difference."

"But why Natasha?" Rebecca asked.

"Because she has a sordid past?" Tony said. Wanda shot him a look and he held his hands up in apology. "I'm sorry, but it's true, right?" He looked at Natasha. "You **do** have a sketchy past. And you're the one who leaked it to the government in the first place. You had to kind of expect this would happen eventually."

"So she should be expecting to have to defend herself every time she turns on the tv? Bruce said heatedly. It's not a good way to live, Tony, believe me, I know."

"Hey, look," Tony said, backpedaling. "I'm not saying Natasha _deserves_ this, I'm just saying... we all have things in our pasts we're not proud of. Unfortunately, when you do the kind of things we do, sometimes that can all blow up in our faces. Look how many times I've been slandered by the press."

"That doesn't make it right, Tony," Steve said. And the barely contained anger running though his voice told Rebecca that he was much more upset by what was going on than what he was showing.

"They've been playing it nonstop since yesterday afternoon," Clint said. "That was when it first aired. It's been on at least three times that I've counted so far. And let's not even mention the amount of hits it's gotten off YouTube."

"Who is that guy anyway?" Rebecca asked with distaste. "I know I recognize him, but I can't quite remember his name."

"His name's Michael Barone," Tony said. "I looked him up. He's some kind of political analyst who used to work for the Washington Examiner. Now he's a commentator for Fox News." He snorted. "Go figure."

Rebecca looked tentatively over at Natasha, who had yet to speak. Her eyes were trained on the ground, her thoughts her own. Rebecca squeezed her hand.

Tony leaned back and put his hands behind his head. "Damage control," he said breezily. "We'll just do some damage control. Kiss some babies, pat some old people on the back, and it'll all be behind us. We've done it before. We can do it again."

"It's not going to be that easy. Not this time."

Everybody turned, startled, to see Maria Hill standing in the doorway.

"Jesus, Maria." Tony said. "You're getting as enigmatic as Fury. Next you'll be standing in darkened doorways and speaking in riddles."

She walked into the room and faced them, ignoring Tony. "It's not going to be as simple as just clearing the mud from our name."

"And why's that?" Cline asked.

"Because now **he's** involved," Maria said, tossing a newspaper down onto the coffee table in the middle of the room. "This just came out this morning."

The room grew silent. Rebecca turned her head so that she could see the cover. It was a picture of a sleazy looking man, grinning. The caption at the top read, _Norman Osborne to run for President in the upcoming election. Promises to hold Avenger's accountable."_

"What the fuck?" Clint asked, breathlessly exasperated.

"I don't understand," Wanda asked as she looked around the room. "Who is this Osbourne person?"

"He's just...some industrial tycoon," Rebecca said, thoroughly confused. "He owns Oscorp, right? Just another regular billionaire. How is he running for President?!"

"He's scum," Steve said, his voice so low and threatening it almost sounded like a growl. "A bigot. A small minded, cruel man. And apparently in this country, any yahoo with money can run for President." He sounded as if he were disappointed in the whole country, rather than just this one man.

"Okay, so he runs for President," Wanda said, now that she was caught up. "What does this mean for us?"

"It means we are in trouble," Clint responded, running his hand through his close cropped hair. "Big trouble."

Maria sighed. "This creates...a political problem. This is not just some media storm that we can weather, but an actual political problem."

"Politicians come and go," Steve said quietly. "The work we do lives on."

"We are navigating waters that we have never had to before," Maria countered. "The usual methods don't apply."

The team was silent, all lost in their own thoughts. Rebecca's heart beat hard against her ribcage; in fury and in fear. "So what do we do?" She asked.

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Maria beat him to is. "We pull back, do damage control. How close are you to finishing your book?"

"I've got most of the preliminary stuff taken care of and planned out," Rebecca said. "I just need to write the bulk of it and edit the rest."

She nodded. "That's a start. A _small_ start. The rest is going to come with time. I know I'm grasping as straws here, but we need to take any positive press we can get at this point. And we need to be careful. Not allow ourselves to be caught with our pants down, so to speak." She looked at Natasha. "And Romanoff? I need to pull you off of any current assignments and ask you to lay low for a while."

Rebecca stood up in outrage. "What?!" she practically screeched.

"Maria that's hardly fair," Clint said incredulously.

"There's no such thing as fair in this world," she said firmly, but Rebecca could detect a hint of sadness in her voice.

"This is not the right way, Maria," Steve said. "We need to make an appearance, defend our own, before this gets worse."

"That would be the **worst** thing we could possibly do right now," she said, crossing her arms. "Look, I don't like this any more than you guys. But any response at all is just going to bait the media and the politicians even more. We'd be playing right into their hands."

Tony sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, I think Hill is right with this one. If it were just some two bit journalist we were up against I'd say we could handle it. But Norman Osbourne...if it's true and he **does** run for office and he **is** against us...well, in that case any kind of exposure, even good exposure, would make us look even worse."

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest when finally Natasha spoke up.

"Maria's right."

It was the first thing she had said since they had watched the journalist badmouthing her. Rebecca looked at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"

Natasha looked at her. "Anything I do right now is just going to give them more fuel to keep attacking us. If I lay low, keep it quiet for a little while..." She tapered off and looked at Maria. "I know how important our public image is right now."

"What do you have lined up?" Maria asked her. "Anything critical?"

"The mission in Prague was the only current mission you had me on. I was planning on looking into that Hydra operation that Bruce was telling us about."

Bruce nodded, his eyes growing dark. "Yuji," he confirmed.

"I can hand that off to a level seven team, if need be," she said thoughtfully. "But the most important thing we can do right now is concentrate on all our actions from here on out. And Rebecca, we need you to get that book done as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am," Rebecca said quietly.

With that, Maria turned and left. The silence in the room threatened to swallow them all whole. Rebecca felt numb, helpless. She could never in a million years have imagined something like this happening. It was out of her depths.

Steve stood up. "Guys, I know this looks pretty bleak but I don't want you to lose hope. Things like this happen all the time, and all the time they blow over." He looked at Natasha. "I know what you're going through, Nat. I've had the press slander my name lots of times. But in the end, it always turns out okay. You'll see."

"Thanks Steve," she said with a distracted smile.

"I'm going to go let Sam know what happened," he said heading out the door. "Tony you might want to call Pepper and try to figure out some kind of game plan. At least figure out how Stark Industries is going to handle any press fallout."

Tony stood up and yawned. "Good idea, old timer. I was due to give her a call anyway." He gave them an exaggerated bow before following Steve out the door.

"I should head back to the lab myself," Bruce said as he got up slowly. "Believe me, I know how this feels Nat. It's a pretty awful feeling actually. Just try and remember that this too shall pass."

Natasha nodded as he left, seemingly still lost in thought.

"What a mess," Wanda sighed.

"My mess, my fault," Natasha said softy.

"How could you say that?" Rebecca asked angrily. "This is **not** your fault. It's that stupid journalist who started this. And that moron Osborne."

"Yes, but if my past wasn't what it was, I wouldn't be such a liability to the team."

Rebecca was shocked speechless. She opened her mouth to respond when Natasha cut her off. "I'm going back to my room to unpack. Will you be around later?"

She met her eyes and read the silent plea there. "Of course. I'm heading back to my quarters in a few minutes. I'll see you there."

Natasha nodded and left, leaving just Rebecca and Wanda in the living room.

Rebecca ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "I hate this, feeling so helpless! I just wish there was something I could **do** to fix this for everyone. For _her_."

Wanda hugged her. "I know you do sweetie," she said warmly. "And I'm sure she knows that. All you can do at this point is just be there for her, support her, whatever she needs. And finish your book!" she said laughing.

Rebecca laughed too. "Okay, okay. I am very motivated to get this thing done." Her smile faded and she asked, "Wanda, do you think we're all going to be okay?"

"Of course," she said breezily. "As long as we are all together we can accomplish anything."

It was the almost exact sentiment she had been feeling earlier, and hearing her best friend echo it did a lot to ease her mind.

"So," Wanda said, changing the subject. "I want to hear all about Prague."

"Sounds good," Rebecca said. "I'm going to head back and unpack. Do you want to stop over in the morning, we can get together then?"

"Perfect!"

They hugged once more and then went their separate ways.

...

Rebeca's mind raced worridly as she unpacked her bag and put her belongings away. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Natasha was going through. She always tried to hide her feelings under a mask of stoic practicality and wry humor, but Rebecca knew her well enough by now to see that she was suffering. She attempted to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, pretending to not notice that the heaviness of the burden wasn't crushing her.  
She frowned as she threw some clothes into her hamper. She knew Natasha had secrets in her past. Knew there were things she had done that she wasn't proud of. But it wasn't her _fault_ , it was all due to that horrible Red Room place where she was raised. They were the ones who were responsible for the things she had done before becomming an Avenger. But that was all in the past now. She was an _Avenger_ , she was a _hero_ , and the fact that she changed her life for the better and spent her time protecting people and saving lives _and_ the world, well...didn't that just about make up for anything she might have done in the past?

Rebecca certainly thought so. Although it was fairly obvious that Natasha didn't agree. Natasha was too hard on herself, and even though she probably wouldn't admit it, it almost seemed as if she was constantly trying to punish herself for things that were out of her control. It was hard to describe, but loving her as deeply as she did, it was almost _painful_ to watch Natasha do this to herself. It damn near broke her heart. She sighed. All Rebecca wanted to do was to take away any pain she might be feeling, to let her know that she was here for her, no matter what. There was nothing Natasha could ever confess to her that would make her stop loving her.

A sudden knock on her door shook her from her reverie. "Come in," she said without turning around.

Natasha strode through the doorway and walked right up to her. Startled, Rebecca dropped the shirt she was holding and turned to face her.

"Hold me?" Natasha asked softly, looking into Rebecca's eyes, her epression unfathomable.

Without a moment's hesitation Rebecca turned and Natasha took the remaining step forward into her arms. Rebecca tightened her grip as the other woman relaxed into her. It felt like completing a puzzle; that satisfying 'click' when all the pieces finally match up. Having Natasha in her arms made Rebecca feel as if everything in the world finally made sense.

"You're not going to tell me to not worry about it?" Natasha asked, her head on Rebecca's shoulder.

"Well, I could say that, but it wouldn't do any good," she replied wryly. "I'm familiar enough with anxiety to know that you can't help what you do or don't worry about."

"Smart girl," Natasha murmured as she laid a kiss against her collarbone.

"But I _will_ tell you that I'm here for you. No matter what those idiots say, I'll always be here for you." She pressed the top of her head, breathing in her musky jasmine scent. "I hope you know that," she said in an almost whisper.

Natasha pulled back and looked into her eyes. "What if you knew everything about me? Every bad thing I've ever done, every dark thought I've ever acted on. Would you still feel the same way?"

Rebecca didn't even have to think about it. "Of course I would feel the same way. _Of course I would._ I told you, I don't care about any of that. What matters now is the present." She tucked a tendril of red hair behind her ear affectionately. "And the future, of course."

Natasha smiled. "You make it sound so easy."

"That's because it is," Rebecca said.

"Apparently easier than unpacking," Natasha said sarcastically as she looked around the other woman's quarters. "How are you not done yet?"

"Hey!" Rebecca said, attempting to swat her as she ducked out of her grasp, laughing. "Excuse me for not being as incredibly efficient as you, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha sat on the edge of her bed and looked out the window, distractedly.

Rebecca watched her for a moment before going back to her unpacking. "You know, I think you might be a little too focused on being a good person."

"How so?" she replied, her eyes never leaving the window.

"Well," Rebecca said, "I think the fact that you actually try so hard to do the right thing, to be a good person, actually speaks for itself."

"You're crazy," Natasha said, smiling. "Trying isn't the same thing as doing. You're a huge dork, you remember what Yoda said."

"It might not be the _same_ thing," Rebecca said, "but just the fact that you're working so hard to change the world for the better, that you strive for perfection in your actions...shows me that you _are_ a good person. If you wern't, you wouldn't care so much. "In fact," she said, getting slightly choked up, "you're one of the best people I have ever met."

Natasha sat looking at her for a moment.

"Let's go to bed," Natasha said gently.

"We didn't have dinner," Rebecca said, surprised. "Arn't you hungry?"

"Yes," she conceded as she ran her hand underneath Rebecca's shirt. "I am hungry. For you."

...

Some time later, in the early hours of the morning Rebecca woke blearily, thinking for a moment she was still in Prague. The familiar sight of her laptop on the nightstand next to the bed brought her back to reality. She was back in the Avengers compound. With Natasha. She smiled lazily and turned over, wanting to see if her red-haired girlfriend was awake and if not, kiss her until she was.

The bed was empty.

She frowned. She couldn't remember Natasha having gotten up and leaving at any point in the night. She was probably just in the bathroom. She sat up and stretched, watching the early daylight filter through the blinds, creating speckled patterns across her bed sheets. She couldn't believe she had slept through the night. Not that she had gotten much sleep. She grinned. She leaned over and started gathering up her clothes that had been shed during the night. Natasha's clothes weren't there. She looked towards the bathroom and saw the door was still open, like it had been the night before. So she _wasn't_ in the bathroom. _She must have gone back to her own room_ , Rebecca thought. But why? And why didn't she tell her she was going?

Alarm bells were starting to ring deep inside her heart. Willing herself to calm down she quickly got dressed and headed over to the Avengers section of the compound.

It was early enough that mostly everyone else was still asleep. She didn't run into anyone on her way over there, which was good, because she knew she wouldn't be able to stop and engage in small talk or be polite until she made sure Natasha was okay. She had a horrible suspicion that was growing louder by the minute and she desperately needed to prove it wrong

When she got to Natasha's room she found the door unlocked. She knocked tentatively and, not hearing a response, walked in.

She stopped dead in her tracks. It was completely empty. The bed was made, and all the furniture was still there, but everything of Natasha's was gone. Her clothes, personal belongings, all gone. The room was as Spartan and bare as Rebecca's had been when she first moved in.

She took a few deep, gulping breathes, in an attempt to not lose control. She felt hot then cold, then lightheaded. She wasn't entirely sure she wasn't going to throw up. The room spun darkly as she tried to put the pieces together, tried to hold herself together as the truth came crashing down around her, as unstoppable as a tropical storm.

The door behind her burst open and suddenly Wanda was there, still in her pajamas, with her hand on her head.

"I could hear you," she said, out of breath. "I could hear you screaming. In my head. What happened?"

Rebecca had sank to the floor, unable to speak.

Wanda sat down beside her and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. "What is it?" she asked again.

"She's gone..." Rebecca said, her voice high and tight with emotion. "Natasha's gone."

~*~ To be continued...

 *****Note: Anytime I write a chapter that is in part influenced by a comic or comic series rather than the Marvel movies, I'll let you guys know. I'll reference them when it's relevant, if only to provide you guys with additional reading if you're interested. :) In this case, I highly reccomend Phil Noto's twenty issue Black Widow series. The art is spectacular, and the storyline with Natasha is very intriguing.**


	20. Chapter 20: Interlude V

**"Stars shine down from the black**  
 **And we're picking through this broken glass**  
 **How could we know that our lives would be**  
 **so full of beautifully broken things?" -Dave Matthews Band**

Natasha casually checked her appearance in a compact mirror. She tucked a few strands of errant hair back up underneath the baseball cap she was wearing. Perfect. She scanned the back of the bus behind her in the mirror before snapping it shut and returning it to her bag. No one was paying her any attention. Not that she expected anyone to really recognize her, especially with her hair covered up, and dressed in nondescript jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, but if there was anything she had learned from all her years working undercover, it was to never relax your guard, not even for one moment.

And not to trust anyone but herself.

After leaving in the middle of the night she had taken one of the Shield cars from the garage, driven it to the train station and left it in the parking lot. But she didn't take the train. Instead she walked the seven miles from the parking lot of the train station to the bus station and bought a ticket to New York City. She didn't think it would for a moment fool Maria. But it wasn't Maria she was trying to evade. If anything, she figured Maria would understand. She would locate the car easily and have it recovered with relative ease.

No harm, no foul.

It wasn't Maria and Shield she was fleeing from. It was from the Avengers. Her friends, her family. Clint. And...Rebecca. She closed her eyes as a brief spasm of anguish passed through her at the thought of her brown eyed lover. She had known what she had to do. As soon as the interview with that journalist had aired, at the first news of Osborne running for President, she knew she had to disappear. She had to put some distance between her and the team. In these circumstances, it was good for everyone that she was leaving. She knew she was a liability for them, the weakest link, essentially. Her past was stained with the actions she had preformed while working as a Red Room operative. Stains that were now finally coming back to haunt her. Stains that could damage the already fragile integrity of the Avengers. She thought of the journalists comments on his program and inwardly cringed. And this was just the beginning. This would be a brush fire, destroying every scrap of positive public representation the Avengers had.

She sighed. It wasn't that her own feelings were hurt. She was well aware of who she was and what she had done in the past. No one but her had to live with herself every day, had to face herself in the mirror on a daily basis. No, what _did_ hurt her, if she was being completely honest with herself, was the thought of hurting her team. Of letting them down. Of letting _her_ down.

 _But you ARE hurting her_ , she thought fiercely. _You left the warmth of her arms and her bed in the middle of the night and basically abandoned her. And isn't this almost the same exact thing that Bruce did to you months ago? The same thing you gave him shit for, and now you're doing it to her. The one person you promised to never hurt._ She shook herself mentally and tried to establish control over her emotions. This was a completely different situation. Bruce was a _good_ person. He never went out of his way to hurt people. Whereas she had spent a good amount of her earlier years hurting many people. She wasn't _abandoning_ her, she was _protecting_ her.

She hadn't planned on leaving in the middle of the night like she did. Not at first. Her intention was to sit her down within the next few days and tell her she was leaving. But as soon as she had gone to her room and fell into her arms, she knew she would be taking the cowards way out after all. The certainty that Rebecca had exuded, that feeling of everything turning out all right, was too much to bear. Because she had the feeling that if she hadn't left in that manner, Rebecca would come after her. Would probably never let her leave in the first place.

 _She'd probably coerce Clint and Wanda to hold me hostage until she could change my mind_ , she thought with a brief smile as she remembered Rebecca's pigheaded insistence that she was a good person. She was too beautiful a person to ever blame her for her past. No. This was the best way to protect her. Rebecca deserved better.

And in protecting her, what if she never saw Rebecca again? It brought tears to her eyes. Never hear her laugh again? Never hold her or kiss her again? It was for the best. At that moment, standing on the precipice of indecision and despair, she realized that her biggest sin wasn't her past. It was trying to _forget_ her past. And she had, for a little while. Being with the Avengers made her feel as if she were a part of something bigger than herself. Made her feel she was worthy of being a part of a family and deserved to have people care about her. And Rebecca?

She closed her eyes. She loved her. She _loved_ her. She hadn't told her, didn't know how. Rebecca made her feel as if her whole future was laid out before her like a blank sheet of paper. When she was with her, it felt like anything was possible. Hope. Love. Redemption. But she was wrong. The journalist and Norman Osborne had seen fit to remind her of who she really was. She ought to thank them, really. She was getting the opportunity to give Rebecca a chance at a normal life, with someone who had an unblemished past and a bright future ahead of her. And besides, what right did Natasha have to any happiness? Soon enough, in time, Rebecca would leave the Avengers compound. Write her book. Meet someone else. Forget about her. It was for the best.

The very thought made her heart shatter into a thousand pieces, like tiny glass shards.

She couldn't focus on that. There were things she had to do, debts that had to be paid. She touched her pocket, feeling the edge of her small notebook ledger that she had brought with her. All of her crimes, all of her past transgressions were in there. There were a lot of names in there. She had a lot to make up for. And no better time to start then now.

She gritted her teeth. _This world is harsh,_ she thought, _and love is for children._

...

Like every efficient Shield agent operating with a high level rank, Natasha had several small safe houses where she kept a small stash of money, clothes, and weapons. The closest one was in New York City, and since that would put some of the best resources as her disposal, she figured it was a good place to start. Besides, several people in her ledger were located in the city, which would give her chance to start making amends. Seven hours after getting on the bus she had arrived in New York City. She stepped out of the bus, throwing her bag haphazardly over her shoulder. She took a deep breath and allowed herself a small smile, momentarily enjoying that heady mixture of exhaust fumes, dozens of different perfumes and colognes, and the scent of street vendor food. She had always loved this city. So much of her time was spent here, when she first joined the Avengers. She turned her head automatically to the direction where the Avengers Tower used to be. Tony had rebuilt it for his company, the logo would read Stark Industries as it once did. But the happy memories would always remain with her. She grit her teeth. She didn't have time to get lost in memories. There was work to do.

And she had one more place to stop before heading to her safe house.

...

She stepped through the door of the law firm, silently assessing the **Nelson and Murdock** sign on the glass before closing it behind her.

"It seems like you're doing very well for yourself, Matt," Natasha said with a smile.

The man behind the desk spun his chair around slightly so he could face her. His dark sunglasses glinted in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. Despite his blindness he made out quite well. "Natasha!" he exclaimed. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise." He stood up and walked towards her.

She stepped into his arms for a quick hug and then sat down in the chair across from his desk. He sat back down at his chair and folded his hands on the desk.

"Why do you actually _not_ sound very surprised that I'm here, Matt?" she asked.

He smiled. "I had a feeling you'd be here to see me once I saw that news coverage from Michael Barone."

She grimaced. "Saw that, did you?"

"Natasha," he said, his voice gentle, "That man is a slimeball. Crooked, corrupt, and sleazy. Everything we despise wrapped up in one nice little journalist package. You can't let people like that get to you."

"He's an asshole," she conceded, but he wasn't wrong, Matt," she said. "I've done some pretty questionable things in my past."

He shrugged. "Haven't we all?"

She crossed her arms and considered his statement. While he might be a lawyer by profession, by night he was the hero that Hell's Kitchen had named Daredevil. Righting wrongs and bringing criminals to justice almost always required getting your hands dirty in one way or another. She knew he understood where he was coming from. But his actions resulted from a desire to clean up his dearly loved city, to made a positive difference in the world. Her own actions in the past were not so righteous.

"No, Matt," she said, looking out the window. "Not like me."

He sighed. "So let me guess, you left the Avengers? Going to hide out in the city for awhile?"

"Yes. The last thing my team needs is to be sullied by my past. I need to lay low until this blows over."

He absentmindedly ran his finger across his lips. "That might be awhile, especially with Norman Osborne now running for President." He raised his sightless eyes to the ceiling. "Heaven help us if that man gets elected into office." He turned back to her. "What do you plan on doing while you're here? I can't exactly imagine you working at a pizza place. Or handing out flyers to tourists."

She thought of the small notebook in her pocket. "I'm going to work on scrubbing my ledger clean. There are a lot of names on that list. A lot of people I have to make amends to."

He frowned. "Natasha. That could be dangerous."

She smiled silkily. "Danger's my middle name. Do you really know me so little, Matt Murdock?"

"There's danger and then there's throwing yourself into situations recklessly," he said. "I just hope you know where that line is and that you don't cross it."

"You don't have to worry about me," she said as she stood up. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

Matt sighed again and stood up with her. "You don't have to do this," he said. "I know you have friends, people that care about you. You're not alone."

"I'm a liability," she said. "And I can't face them again until I fix that." She thought of Rebecca and felt her heart clench.

"Okay, " he said holding his hands up in defeat. "I give up. You're going to do what you want regardless of what I say anyway."

She smiled. "Matt, it seems you **do** know me well after all."

"But why even come see me at all?" he asked.

"As a professional courtesy. I wanted you to know I'm here, that I'm going to be working in your city." She raised an eyebrow at him. "And I expect you to deny all knowledge of me coming here to see you if any of my colleagues come around asking about me."

"Of course," he said. "But why do I get the feeling that there's more?"

Her eyes hardened into green steel. "I also wanted to tell you to stay out of my way. My affairs are my own and I don't want you interfering."

"Don't do anything to jeopardize the safety of my city and I won't have to," he said softly.

"I'm glad we understand each other, Daredevil," she said as she walked out of the office.

"Take care of yourself, Widow," Matt whispered to the empty room.

...

The safe house was in Greenwich Village, in the west side of lower Manhattan. It had been a long time since she had been there, the last time being a few weeks respite after the battle of New York. The key stuck in the lock and she had to thump on it twice to get the door to open. Once inside she dropped her bag on the floor and locked the door behind her. The air had a dry, stale quality to it, a result of being uninhabited for so long. It was small, but she had never needed much space. There was one room, with a tiny bathroom on the other end of the room. There was no kitchen, but there was a utility sized fridge unplugged in the corner, and an outdated microwave on top of it. She would have to plug them both in and see if they were still functioning. The only other furniture was a sorry looking couch in the middle of the room, a tall lamp in the corner, and a small desk and chair in the other corner. There were no windows. She had specifically picked a location with only one entrance and exit. Easier to defend, if need be. Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly exhausted. She walked over to the couch and sat down, throwing the notebook she carried next to her on the couch. She looked at it silently. She knew what she had to do. But despite that knowledge, she wished with all her heart that she was still with her team at the Avengers compound. She missed them. She missed Clint's stupid jokes, Steve's caring personality, Wanda's blossoming confidence, even Tony's arrogant swagger was something she missed. And Rebecca. She missed Rebecca. She thought of the way her hair fell against her back as she spun and laughed. They way she never judged anyone and always had a kind word to offer anyone who needed it. The way her eyes had looked at her with trust and emotion. As selfish as she knew it was, she would give anything to be back with her right now.

She put her head in her hands and wept.

~*~ To be continued...


	21. Chapter 21

_So sorry guys that this chapter seemed to take forever to get finished! School and work have just been killing me lately! :P Thanks for all your kind words and reviews! I love you guys and appreciate you all so much! Thanks for hanging in there with me! And with Rebecca and Nat of course! ;) Happy reading! 3_

 **"Where are you going, where do you go?**  
 **Are you looking for answers to questions under the stars?**  
 **Well, if along the way you are growing weary,**  
 **You can rest with me until a brighter day,**  
 **And you're okay.**

 **I am no Superman.**  
 **I have no answers for you.**  
 **I am no hero, oh that's for sure.**  
 **But I do know one thing;**  
 **Where you are is where I belong.**  
 **I do know, where you go is where I wanna be.**

 **Where are you going, where do you go?**  
 **Tell me, where are you going, where?**

 **Let's go."**

 **(Dave Matthews Band)**

It had been three weeks since Natasha had left.

Rebecca sat underneath a huge oak tree on the grounds of the compound. She had parked herself there about an hour ago with a glass of iced strawberry tea and the first draft of her book. She had a red pen to edit out any and all errors she had made. She knew her agent always had an editor go through and repair any mistakes but Rebecca had always been her harshest critic and always felt better when she went over it herself. Nothing short of perfection would suffice. She took a sip from her glass and stretched her legs out in front of her, attempting to get comfortable. Despite the heat of the mid August day, a squad of Shield cadets ran past her as part of some training exercise no doubt. One or two of them caught sight of her and waved. While she spent most of her time with the Avengers, she was still on familiar terms with some of the agents. For the most part, they were a friendly, if tough, group. She raised a hand and waved back, a half smile on her face.

She was getting good at this, this pretending that everything was okay. That she didn't have a huge gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.

It was a terrible thing, to feel only half alive.

Rebecca still wasn't sure how she got through those first few days. She remembered not leaving her room, waving away the food that Wanda kept trying to bring her. She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't write. How could she? How could she do any of those normal, everyday things when _she_ was gone? And she hated being that girl. The girl who gave up just because their significant other left. It was all so very... _Twilight_. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to get up and move on. But she just...couldn't. All she could do was wonder if she had done anything differently, if she had said something differently, then maybe Natasha would still be here with her. She wouldn't have felt compelled to go.

For three days she had remained that way, secluded in her room. Refusing to talk to anyone, to let anyone in, either literally or figuratively. Finally after the third day Clint picked the lock on her door and burst in, followed by an apologetic looking Wanda. Rebecca had screamed at them both to get out. He ignored her and walked over, scooping her up off the bed and flinging her unceremoniously over his shoulder. She had been too shocked to protest. He had carried her to the Avengers living room and dumped her on the couch. Aside from Steve reading a newspaper at the kitchen table, the rest of the room was empty. Steve looked from her, completely disheveled and obviously pissed, to Clint, standing next to the couch with his arms folded across his chest, almost daring her to try to leave and stood up slowly. Clint held up a hand to him, without turning his eyes from Rebecca.

"You don't have to leave, Cap," he growled. "This won't take long."

"What the fuck, Clint?" Rebecca sputtered angrily.

"Stop," he said. "This needs to stop, and it needs to stop now."

Rebecca shut her mouth, hardly able to believe her own actions. She didn't know why she felt so _angry_. It wasn't Clint's fault. He didn't deserve her lashing out at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, not looking at him.

He sighed. "I'm not looking for an apology, Becks. I'm looking for you to pull yourself out of this."

"Oh so I'm just supposed to forget about her, now?" she said. "Just pretend none of this ever happened? Out of sight, out of mind, that sort of thing?"

"No," Wanda said gently. "Of course not. But you're stronger than this. And you know it."

She didn't know any such thing. She ran a hand through her tangled hair. She didn't _feel_ strong. She felt like a hot mess. Powerless. And in addtion to that she was ashamed for feeling that way.

"Look," Clint said kneeling next to her. "I'm not saying you're not supposed to be upset. But we're your friends, Becks. Let us help you. You don't have to go through this alone." At this, his voice broke slightly. "We...we miss her too."

The emotions that had been building up inside her for the past three days broke free as if let loose from a dam. She hated other people seeing her emotional, she had been brought up in a household where that wasn't only discouraged, but forbidden. It wasn't easy to for her to let people in, it never had been. But something had begun to change in her since she met Natasha. Since she had met the Avengers. Walls were beginning to come down. Walls that she had spent a good part of her life erecting around her heart. And here she was, with these people, and all she wanted to do was let them in.

It was a beautiful feeling. Beautiful and terrifying.

She broke down crying, and Clint immediately sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She tucked herself into him, taking comfort in his easy presence. She felt Wanda lean into her back, winding an arm around her waist. They didn't say anything, just let her cry as long and as hard as she needed to. When she had gotten it mostly out of her system, she pulled back and sheepishly accepted a tissue from Wanda, blowing her nose noisily.

"Feel better, chickadee?" Clint asked.

"A little," she admitted. She looked at them both. "Guys...thank you. For...you know, everything."

"That's what friends are for," Steve said gently as he walked into the living room.

Rebecca looked up quickly. She had forgotten he had been here while this was going down. She felt an embarrassed blush rise across her neck.

"Things are never quite as bad as they seem when you've got people in your corner who care about you, believe in you," he said. "No matter how bad things get, you can't let yourself forget that."

She shook her head. "I won't."

Steve smiled. "Natasha will be back. Once she gets whatever straightened out in her head that she needs to, she'll be back."

"How can you be so sure?" Rebecca asked softly.

"Because this is her home, and we're her family," he said simply. "And that includes you as well. She cares about you, very much so. She'll be back."

Rebecca felt a sliver of hope flicker through her heart. There were very few people in the world that she trusted and respected as much as Steve Rogers. If he said Natasha would be back...she believed him.

She had friends now. People that cared about her. People that missed Nat too. She wasn't alone.

And that helped.

That evening Tony came down with Pepper, and made everybody breakfast for dinner. Amongst the plates of pancakes and omelettes there was laughter and joking, and the lighthearted atmosphere did wonders for Rebecca's frayed nerves. But later on, in the middle of the night, she woke from deep sleep in the clutches of a panic attack. As she lay there alone in the dark, breathing deeply, willing her heart to stop its deafening pounding, she knew that things wouldn't be completely back to being right again until Natasha was back.

She mentally shook her head, pulling herself out of the memory and dismissing such thoughts. The sun was shining brightly in the cobalt blue sky. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. It had been three weeks. Every day was a challenge. But Wanda was right. She **was** strong. She refused to allow herself to be defeated by sadness or regret over Natasha's leaving.

And logically, she knew it wasn't her fault. In some misguided way, Natasha had left for some asinine reason about wanting to protect her and the Avengers. It made her want to scream. Didn't she know that they were all weaker when they weren't together? How could she not understand that she had friends, people who _loved_ her and would stand by her no matter what she did in the past? It was maddening. Natasha was constantly trying to save the world, trying to put everyone else and everyone else's interests above her own. And she loved that about her, she really did. But wasn't it high time that she let someone take care of _her_ for once?

Rebecca had thought, for a brief time, that she would be that person. The one Natasha relied on. The one she trusted. The one she... Her arm jerked, knocking the glass of tea over. Cursing under her breath, Rebecca hastily moved her papers out of the way of the spreading fluid, though most of it was already soaking into the soil. She wasn't angry with Natasha, well, not overly so. She understood her reasons for leaving. But what she _didn't_ understand was why she hadn't taken her with her when she left. She would have followed her to the ends of the earth and back. She _loved_ her for gods sake! _But she doesn't know that, doesn't she_ she thought despairingly. _Because you never told her how you felt. You never told her that you loved her_. Tears welled up in her eyes. And now Natasha was gone. Who knew if she would ever get the chance to tell her?

 _You will_ , she told herself firmly as she looked back down at the pages of her rough draft. _But for now, you've got work to do_.

Her inability to write those first few days after Natasha had disappeared in a frenzy of feverish writing.

After Clint forced her to come to terms with the situation she had found herself going from not wanting to write, to wanting to write ieverything/i. It was cathartic, she figured, a way to deal with the people and situations in her life in a way that helped her understand things better. Writing had always done that for her, it was one of the reasons she loved it so much. Two days ago, after pulling another all-nighter, she finally finished the first draft of her book. Rebecca crept down to one of the computer labs, using the ID card Maria had given her to gain access. It was just about five oclock in the morning and she had the lab to herself. She watched the printer spit out page after page of her writing, while she stood there wide eyed and slightly delirious from lack of sleep, and felt a growing sense of accomplishment. She was done. She was _finally_ done. Sure, she still had tons of editing and revising to do, but she had made it over that initial hump. And it felt great.

Clutching the numerous pages to her chest she had woken Wanda out of pure excitement. They knew better than to try and wake Clint up. He hated early mornings with a passion. So the two of them drove out to a nearby town in the early hours of the morning to have breakfast at a local diner. And as they toasted each other with their glasses of orange juice, Rebecca felt her heart lift for the first time since Natasha had left.

 _Will she read it?_ Rebecca wondered now as she watched another squad of Shield agents run by. _Wherever Natasha is, will she read it?_ She hoped so. She looked down at the pages on her lap and smiled. As much as she wanted the book to provide positive public relations for her friends, she was aware of another reason that she wanted the book published. She wanted Natasha to read it. She hoped that if she read between the lines, her words would be able to convey to Natasha the message she had been too cowardly to tell her in person. That she loved her. And always would.

"Yo, space cadet," a familiar voice called out. "You left your phone in my room again."

Clint tossed her the cell phone and sat down beside her under the tree as she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry! I always seem to be doing that, don't I?"

He grinned at her. "No worries, I know you've got a lot on your mind. Speaking of, you got a call from the real estate agent. I answered it for you."

Rebecca's eyebrows rose.

He shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who forgot your phone. I was just trying to help out."

A smile teased the corner of her mouth. "I know you were. So what did he say?"

"He said if you want to look at the house he can be there in about an hour."

"And what did you tell him?" Rebecca asked.

"I told him we'd meet him there."

"That's great, I can...wait...'we'?"

He snorted. "Of course. We wouldn't miss this for the world."

Rebecca grinned. "Really?"

He stood up and held out his hand to help her up. "Really, really. Now go get your car and I'll get Wanda. We have a house to look at."

...

It had warmed up considerably so Rebecca was glad to get in her car and turn the air conditioning on. As the car cooled down and she waited for the others she turned on the radio and tapped out a rhythm on her steering wheel. After a few minutes she was slightly surprised to see Clint leading not just Wanda but Vision to the car as well.

"I hope you do not mind the intrusion, Rebecca," he said formally as he got in the backseat with Clint. "But Clint said my insight may be useful when looking over the house of your choosing."

She shook her head. "I don't mind at all, Vee. The more the merrier!" She caught Wanda trying to hide a soft smile and was suddenly even more glad that Vision had come along.

The four of them drove out through the countryside and into the neighboring towns; through Warsaw and Mt Morris and East Aurora until finally they reached the town of Wyncliffe. As she paid attention to the stop signs and street signs Rebecca marveled at the quaint stores and old fashioned architecture of the buildings and houses. It really was beautiful up here. So different from the congested and hectic areas where she had spent much of her adult life. This was the eighth house that she had looked at so far, but the first that she had brought others with her to actually look at anything. They hadn't even known she was looking at houses until after the fourth one. She hadn't told them right away because she was afraid they would think it was a dumb idea. Or worse...what if they didn't want her around? The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to them. When Wanda had found the list of houses that Rebecca had left on her desk, she had sheepishly admitted that she was planning on moving to the area in a more permanent manner. Wanda had hugged her delightedly and Rebecca realized right then and there that she was making the right decision. Why would she not want to be closer to the people she cared about, that felt like family? From that point on through newspaper listings and web listings Wanda joined her in the search for suitable houses.

After she finally buckled down and told Clint and the rest of the Avengers she had gone to see Maria. She had wanted to tell her not only about finishing her book, but that she would be leaving soon as well.

"So I'm looking at houses," Rebecca said. "I really like the area and I definitely want to stay. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I find a place."

The Shield commander had nodded. "You're not in the way here at all. Quite the contrary. And I'm interested to see if this novel of yours help to save our public relations." She smiled. "No pressure."

Rebecca smiled back. "No worries, I'll try not to let you down. I still need to proofread and edit it before I send it to my agent, so it's not quite ready yet. But it will be, and soon."

"Good," Maria said. "And I'm glad to hear you'll be sticking around the area." Her eyes grew serious. "I sincerely hope you find what you're looking for."

Rebecca figured she was on the right track. Her desire to find a house in the area had not abated since Natasha had left. If anything, the desire had rooted itself in her even more strongly. She finally had found a place where she belonged, and she would be damned if she would be forced to go back to her old stifling world. She was finally going to do something for _herself_. Move forward in a positive direction. _And maybe, just maybe_ , she thought, _Natasha will get to see it too._ She wondered what the red haired woman would think about her moving so close to the Avengers facility. Would she be happy? _One obstacle at a time_ , she thought ruefully. _You need to find a place first and then you can worry about what you think your girlfriend will think of it._

"So what do you think guys," she asked as she drove, looking over at Wanda in the passenger seat. "Do you think this will be the one?"

Wanda smiled. "You'll know. When you find the right one, you will know it."

"It's exciting to think of having my own place," Rebecca said. "We could have your birthday party here, Wanda! It's coming up really soon, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, it is. I can't remember the last time that I've had a birthday party, though. Maybe I am too old for such things?"

Clint made a rude noise from the back seat.

"Birthday parties are a celebration of life, of an overcoming of obstacles," Vision said. "And of course, honoring the person themselves."

Rebecca leaned over and pressed her hand on top of hers. "You're never too old to have a birthday party, sweetie. And we are going to make it a perfect one! We'll invite everyone, okay?"

"Okay," Wanda conceded with a grin.

Rebecca snapped her fingers as if suddenly remembering something. "Wanda, I keep meaning to ask you...what's your favorite meal?"

"My favorite...meal?"

"Yes, you know, what you love to eat more than anything else. Your favorite meal!"

"Ah," she considered, caught off guard. "I really like chicken primavera, it's been forever since I've eaten it though. Why do you ask?" she said, furrowing her brow in confusion.

Rebecca gave an exaggerated shrug. "No reason, just randomly thinking about it." She started to whistle innocently.

"Real smooth," Clint muttered under his breath as Vision had his eyes turned upwards to the roof of the car in a display of almost pure human exasperation.

"And maybe I'll finally be able to get a cat," Rebecca mused. "I've always wanted one!"

"Wait, no. Absolutely not," Clint protested.

"Why not?" Wanda asked.

"Because cats are assholes," he said matter of factly. "You're better off getting a dog."

Wanda laughed and Rebecca sputtered, "So what if cats are assholes? They're also beautiful and independent! They're not even like having a pet, it's like adopting a little furry ninja that you can be friends with."

"Jesus Christ," Clint said. "I am having some major deja vu. I swear this is the exact argument I had with Natasha a few months back. She said almost the same thing about cats."

Rebecca said nothing, just smiled sadly.

Wanda shot him a look over her shoulder and he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Sorry, chickadee," he said.

Rebecca shook her head. "No," she said. "It's okay, Clint. Really." In all honesty, as much as it made her sad to talk about Natasha, in a way it made her slightly relieved too. It was a way to keep her with her still, even if it was only in her thoughts and shared conversation.

"Excuse me," Vision piped up from the backseat. "I have read that being around cats can lower blood pressure. Maybe we could suggest to Dr. Banner that he should acquire some cats to help with his...anger problem."

Clint burst out laughing. "I would love to see the look on his face if you were to tell him that."

...

They pulled up in front of the house. It was a lot smaller than the picture Wanda had found for her online, but somehow even more perfect. It was two stories, and a beautiful robins-egg blue. The architecture was old, and had a beautiful nostalgic feel to it, with white trim curlicues bordering the beams on the front porch. She got out and walked across the yard. Wanda got out and came to stand next to her.

"What are you thinking?" she asked. "Do you like it?"

"Wanda, I absolutely _love_ it," Rebecca whispered back.

Vision had followed them across the yard and he looked around. "It does seem quite peaceful."

Rebecca nodded happily. It was on a side street, away from all the main roads, which was one of Rebecca's favorite aspects of the whole thing. Being the only house on the street was a major bonus.

"Wait until we see the inside," Clint said. "It could be a total shithole despite the pretty exterior."

"Thanks, gloomy guts," Rebecca scolded, slapping his shoulder playfully.

"Think positive, Clint," Wanda echoed.

He folded his arms across his chest. "You guys think positive, I'll think realistic."

"Rebecca?"

She turned to see the real estate agent crossing the yard to greet them. She held out a hand and introduced herself. "Mr. Cremeens, it's so nice to see you again."

"Same here, always a pleasure." He nodded towards the house. "So what do you think? Is this the one?"

Clint looked at him stoically. "She'd like to see the inside first, before making any decisions."

The other man looked startled. "And you are?"

"We're her friends," Clint responded. "Family, really. Just making sure she's not being taken advantage of."

"Oh Clint, for Christ's sake," Rebecca muttered under her breath while Wanda tried desperately hard to smother a laugh at Clint's tough guy act. But deep down Rebecca was secretly pleased. It was nice to have people looking out for her. Even when it wasn't necessary. She could handle things on her own, and they knew it. But having people support you while at the same time respecting your own strength was pretty extraordinary. _Maybe this_ _ **IS**_ _what having a real family feels like,_ she thought.

"Um..." the real estate agent had finally caught sight of Vee. "Why is that man...red?"

"I am very much interested in the structural integrity of this building," Vision said politely.

"Of course you are," Mr. Cremeens said resignedly. Thoroughly giving up on any semblance of normalcy, he took the keys out of his pocket and let them all in the front door.

...

It had obviously been a long time since anyone had lived here, judging the amount of dust that had collected on the windowsills and the slight scent of stale air. When she asked about it, Mr. Cremeens had told her it was difficult to find anyone to buy a house in the area that was so set apart from everything else. Rebecca thought that was one its best selling points. It was a modest house, but still had plenty of room. The upstairs contained the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Downstairs was the kitchen, living room, another smaller bathroom. A back door in the kitchen led out to the backyard, which was unfenced and faced a small wooded area, surrounded by a plethora of trees.

It was perfectly. Literally everything she could ever want.

She met Clint and Wanda back inside the living room to get their opinions.

"It needs a little bit of work," Clint admitted, "but to be honest for the price, it's a nice little house." He grinned. "Besides, any work you need help with you've always got me and Steve to help out."

Rebecca grinned at the thought of Hawkeye and Captain America helping with fixing up her house.

Vee came sliding up from the basement, causing Mr. Cremeens to almost spill his coffee all over himself. "I have analyzed the space to space perimeters of this house, Rebecca, and the foundation is sound. There are also no signs of water leaks or water intrusion."

"Yes, but what do YOU think of it," Wanda asked her pointedly.

"It...well, I love it," Rebecca confessed. "I really do. You said I would know when it's the right one, and...you were right. I KNOW. I can picture myself living here, being happy here."

 _Oh Nat,_ she thought as a bittersweet feeling washed over her. _I wish you were here. I wish you could see how perfect this place is_.

She turned to the real estate agent and smiled confidently. "Can I have a look at the paperwork you brought over? I've made my decision."

...

In the end, Clint had helped her understand a lot of the paperwork she had to go over. If for nothing else, it was great to have someone there she trusted to help her sort all the legalities out. It was rather like having a father she could rely on. She grinned at the thought. If she told Clint she thought of him as a father figure she knew he would recoil and protest that he was way too young to have a daughter her age. Which was probably true. But she couldn't help but feel that way. The man practically oozed parental support, especially where she and Wanda were concerned. In the end she had written a check for the down payment. If everything worked out according to plan she could move in as early as next week. She would have to hire a moving van to bring up all her things from her apartment in New Jersey, and probably inform her parents she was moving out of the state (did she really have to tell them?) but at least she had gotten the ball rolling.

The mood in the car on the way back was lighthearted and breezy.

Rebecca finally felt as if things were starting to take a turn for the better.

As they walked into the living room, eager to tell everyone the good news, they found Steve and Bruce poring over a newspaper, looking particularly grim.

"Who pissed in your cheerios?" Clint asked breezily.

"He made it through the first round and is now an official candidate; he's running for President," Steve said.

"Who?" asked Rebecca, her heart sinking. "Osborne?"

He spun the newspaper around so they could see it. The cover featured a leering image of Norman Osborne underneath the caption; 'Everyone is answerable to the law-even superheroes.'

"I can't believe he actually made it through the primaries," Clint said in disbelief. "I honestly thought he would be a washout by now."

"Apparently the media is eating up everything he has to say," Bruce said. "And what he has to say isn't very good for us."

"It does not help matters that every news station tries to paint us as destructive monsters," Wanda said. "Why do they do this?" Emotion was palpable in her voice. "We are trying to help people, to _save_ people, yet they still try to tear us down."

Rebecca couldn't help but wonder the same thing. She had never understood the media's sick fascination with consistently painting the Avengers in some of the worst ways imaginable.

"Some people see the good in others and want nothing more than to desecrate that," Steve said. "Because it's easier to bring down other people than to use them as an example to make themselves better."

"That's so...sad," Rebecca said.

Steve leaned back against the couch, his arms folded across his chest. "It's a difficult world we live in now," he said slowly. "But that doesn't mean we change the way we do things. We fight for the people, to _protect_ the people. Not the politicians. And especially not the media."

"How can we fight for the people when those very people are trying to discredit us?" Clint asked with exasperation.

"We do it how we've always done things. We put together a solid, united front. No more of this laying low or trying to stay out of the spotlight." He glanced down at the newspaper on the table with disgust. "I was wrong to let Maria have her way in this. We all need to be together, as we always have, and show them that we won't be intimidated."

His eyes met Rebecca's, and she recalled what he had said to her weeks ago, when Natasha first left. How they were a family. How things were never quite as bad as they seemed when you had someone in your corner supporting you. _Oh Natasha,_ Rebecca thought, _How are we supposed to help you if you're out there on your own?_ They were only as strong as when they were united. How could they hope to fix anything without the whole team? Something had to be done. And it had to be done before things got worse.

"I may not be an Avenger or a superhero," she said. "And I don't know what you guys are going to do, but I know what **I'm** going to do. It's what I should have done in the first place."

"And what's that?" Bruce asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" She smiled. "I'm going to find Natasha."

~*~ To be continued


	22. Chapter 22

**Two chapters in one weekend!? See how much I love you guys? :P Happy reading! Love you all!**

"I'm coming with you," Clint said immediately. "There's no way you'll be able to track her down without me."

Steve nodded his approval. "I think that's a very good idea. I don't like the thought of her being out there on her own anyway."

Wanda spoke up, "I want to come too."

Rebecca shook her head regretfully. "I want you to, Wanda, I really do. But with your powers...you'd draw too much attention." She turned and hugged her, drawing the other woman close. "But thank you," she whispered. "It means the world to me that you would want to come and help me."

"You find her and bring her back," Wanda said softly with a smile as she hugged her back.

"She's right," Bruce said. "The last thing we want is anyone catching wind that we're trying to find her, or that she's even missing. She's been laying low, staying away from any attention. For all they know, we're keeping her locked up somewhere."

Rebecca snorted at the thought of anyone being able to keep Natasha **anywhere** against her will.

"I do think you should take one more person with you though," Steve said as he looked at Clint. "Just in case you guys run into any trouble."

"I know just the person," Clint said. "Shield agent. Total badass. And definately owes me a favor."

Steve nodded once more. "Good. As soon as you guys get back we can formulate our next move, which if I have anything to say about it is going to include a press conference to address these issues. No more hiding."

"What about Maria?" Rebecca asked tentatively. Judging from what was said the last time they had all discussed this, Maria had made it very clear how she wanted things to go, and she didn't think a press conferance was something she would approve of.

"Just leave Maria to me," he said with a grim smile. "You just concentrate on finding Nat and bringing her back. I'll take care of the rest."

The easy way he took control of situations, the way he inspired hope and confidence in tense conditions...it was moments like these that made Rebecca realize quite keenly why Steve Rogers was such a good leader.

Clint laid his hand on her arm. "I'll meet you in your room in about half an hour? It'll give me a chance to clear up things on my end."

She nodded her assent and as she turned to follow him out she remembered the original reason for seeking out the others in the first place. "So, I just bought a house," she said happily. "It's only a couple of towns away."

Bruce's eyes widened. "That's great news. It's nice to hear something good for a change."

Steve gave her a wide smile. "That **is** great news. Congratulations."

"I really like it here, you know?" Rebecca confided. "I finally feel like I belong somewhere."

Steve put a hand on her shoulder reasuringly. "I know exactly what you mean."

...

After bidding a tearful goodbye to Wanda, Rebecca headed back to her room. She pulled out a large backpack from undeneath her bed and looked at it thoughtfully. She would send her manuscript to her agent and editor tonight, before she left in the morning so they could work on putting it together while she was gone. She wondered if Clint had any idea about where Natasha was. It was a big world, after all. She looked at her dresser and frowned. Would it be cold or warm where they were going? How long would they be gone for? So many questions. Her earlier confidence was starting to wilt. She wondered if she was doing the right thing. Natasha was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. What if she didn't **want** to be found? What if they found her and she was...angry with them? Angry with _her_? Her heart starting pounding hard and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Maybe this was a mistake. Then she remembered that last night before she disappeared. How she had asked to be held. She remembered the almost desperation in their lovemaking, in the way she touched her, as if the world was coming to an end. Rebecca hadn't understood it at the time. But she was beginning to. It was Natasha's way of trying to ask for help, for support, but not quite knowing how. She had wanted, no _needed_ to know that she wasn't alone. And while Natasha might **think** that she was doing the right thing by leaving them all behind, Rebecca knew she had to find her and tell her the truth; that her place was here, with the Avengers. With her family. And that she belonged with her. That she loved her.

There was a knock at the door and Clint walked in. "You okay?" he asked, seeing her sitting on the bed

Rebecca nodded. "Yeah. Just worried I guess."

He smiled. "Don't be. I'm sure Nat's not getting into any trouble." He thought for a moment and winced. "Well, not **too** much trouble anyway.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "That's what I was afraid of."

Clint sat down next to her. "Natasha is an Avenger. And an excellent Shield agent. She's fine. And once we find her and knock some sense into her, we'll bring her back here and get this Norman Osborne thing straightened out, all right?"

"Yes," she said. "Although I don't know about **knocking** sense into her. That's not really my forte."

"Fine. Then you can kiss some sense into her, sound better?"

Rebecca laughed. "Much better. Now **that** I can handle. Do you have any idea where she might have went?"

He puffed his cheeks out and blew the air out slowly. "Not for sure, no. But I have a feeling that she may have gone to the city."

She looked at him questioningly. "The city?"

"New York City."

"Oh." She was slightly surprised. She had expected her to be on a completely different continent if she was being honest. "Why there? That's not even that far away."

Clint said, "Nat doesn't do anything without a reason. I know she has some contacts in the city. And I strongly suspect she's planning on taking this time away from us and cleaning out her ledger a bit. There are at least two people she owes a debt to, or at least she _thinks_ she owes a debt to, in New York. It would make the most sense for her to star there."

The ledger. Rebecca felt a chill dance down her spine. Natasha had spoken with her about it, but very minimally. She knew she kept a list of all the people she had wronged in her past. Even though it was a small book, Rebecca could tell that Natasha carried the weight of it on her shoulders and that it was a heavy burden.

"Clint?" Rebecca asked, "What...happened to her? What did the Red Room **do** to her?"

He looked uncomfortable. "How much has she told you?"

"I know they took her from Leningrad when she was an orphan and that they pretty much trained her to be their assassin," she said. "And I know that...she still carries the scars of her past with her, even now."

Clint nodded. "I know she doesn't like to talk about it, but yeah. She's told you the main gist of it. The Black Widow program was the highest level of training that those girls could aspire to, and Natasha was the best of her class."

"They taught her fighting and weapons? That sort of thing?"

"All that and more. Close-quarters combat. Espionage. Deep Undercover Ops. Tactical. Navigation. Military engineering. You name it, she learned it."

"It sounds so very...intense."

Clint looked at her. "It was. Very much so, from what I've heard. She's never told me this, of course, I read about it in her file."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "You read her **file**? Clint, how could you do that?"

He put his arms up in defense. "It was when we were first teamed up together. She was so reserved, wouldn't let anyone in. So Coulson gave me her file to read. She has no idea I know, of course."

"Who's Coulson?" Rebecca asked.

"Nat and I worked on lots of missions with him, he was a Shield agent. One of the best. And a good man." A cloud of sadness passed over his face. "He died in he battle of New York."

She put her hand on his. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her and smiled softly. "It's okay. It's been a while, but I still miss him, you know?"

Rebecca squeezed his hand. "You probably always will. The important people in your life never really leave you."

He rubbed his eyes. "Very true, chickadee. Very true. But anyway, back to Nat. The one thing you really have to understand about what she went through was that it went beyond just regular training. It was more like brainwashing." He leaned closer. "They handcuffed those girls to their beds each night. When I first met Natasha, she was still doing it. It took her a few years, but she broke herself of that eventually."

She felt her heart plummet with sadness. _Oh, my poor Natasha_.

"It was bad," Clint continued. "They would give those girls false memories and manipulated memories and could erase them and rewrite them whenever they wanted."

"So she had to follow their every order, their ever command."

He nodded. "She had to do whatever they told her."

Rebecca burst into tears.

"Whoa, hey!" Clint said, jumping up. "I didn't mean to get you upset! I shouldn't have told you."

She waved his words away while hastily rubbing her eyes. "No, I needed to know. It's just so...horrible to think of anyone having to endure that. Especially someone..." _especially someone you love,_ she thought. The thought of Natasha being a scared and lonely little girl being handcuffed to her bed every night made her simultaneously depressed and almost apoplectic with rage.

Clint seemed to understand. He pulled her up by her arms and hugged her. "I know. It's unbearable to think of her going through that and surviving. Enduring. It's amazing she didn't lose her mind."

"She's strong," Rebecca murmured into his shirt. She's the strongest and bravest person I know."

"I agree with you on that," he said. "I just wish she saw herself that way."

"Why doesn't she?" she asked, pulling out of his embrace. "Why is she so hard on herself?"

"She's killed people, Becks," Clint said softly. "Lots of people. That's a hard thing to get past. Even if it wasn't all her fault, she still feels responsible."

"We're going to make it right," Rebecca said angrily. "We're going to find her and make sure she knows that she can't spend the rest of her life punishing herself for her past."

He smiled. "That's my girl."

Suddenly the door opened and a blonde woman Rebecca had never seen before walked in. "Sorry, am I interrupting anything?" she asked.

Rebecca hastily wiped her tear filled eyes. Who the hell was this, now? "No, sorry. You're fine. Can I help you with something?"

The woman laughed, a low pitched delighted laugh that despite her emotional slump made her want to laugh along with her. "Clint," the woman said, "didn't you tell your friend I was coming along for the ride?"

Clint nodded. "Of course I did!" He turned back to Rebecca. "Becks, may I introduce the third member of our little extraction team, Barbara Morse. Otherwise known as Mockingbird."

"Actually, you can just call me Bobbi," she said as she winked at Rebecca. "Clint, you never told me you had such adorable friends."

Rebecca had force herself to not allow her jaw to drop. **This** was the agent that Clint had said was a total badass and would be joining them? She wasn't sexist in the least but she was completely floored by the fact that it was a woman agent that he had chosen. She looked her over. She was probably the tallest woman Rebecca had ever seen. Her wavy blonde hair fell to the middle of her back. She was lithe and looked like she could pack a pretty big wallop.

"Hi," she said shyly. "I'm Rebecca. Thanks for coming along to help."

Bobbi smiled. "It's no biggie. I owe Clint a favor anyway. And it's not everyday I get to track down the legendary Black Widow. Anyway, just wanted to introduce myself since we're going to all be working together so intimately. It's nice to meet you, Rebecca." She looked at Clint. "I'll see you guys in the morning, yeah? I'm heading to bed." Without a further word she turned and left.

Rebecca was still trying to work through her initial surprise. "She seems...nice," she managed to say.

Clint laughed. "I don't know if nice is the word I would use to describe Bobbi," he said. "But she is a good friend. And a helluva agent."

"How do you know her anyway?" she asked curiously.

Clint had the decency to look abashed.

"Oh for Christ's sake, Clint," Rebecca said, thoroughly exasperated. "Did you sleep with _everyone_ who works for Shield?!"

"Hey!" Clint said. "It was a long long time ago! I can't be blamed for what I did in my youth."

Rebecca just stared at him as he gave her his most innocent grin.

"Whatever," she said, giving in and laughing. "As long as she helps us find Natasha I don't care about what you two used to get up to. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

"Early," Clint said. "I want to get in the city as early as we can and get a good start." He kissed her forehead. "Have a good night, chickadee."

After he left Rebecca started throwing clothes in her bag, feeling slightly more energized than she did before he stopped by. There was a lot of dark stuff in her girlfriend's past, that was for sure, but she also knew without a doubt that Natasha was one of the kindest and caring people she had ever met. They would work out any demons she had lingering because of her history. And they would do it together.

 _Don't worry, Natasha,_ Rebecca thought to herself. _I'm coming._

~*~ To be continued...


	23. Chapter 23: Interlude VI

Natasha winced as she put pressure on her left ankle. _I knew I shouldn't have taken the jump at that height,_ she thought, as she stood on the doorstep. She leaned on her right ankle, putting more of her weight on the non injured limb as she rang the doorbell and considered the events from the night before.

The evening had seemed to last forever. She followed the thugs for three blocks before they finally crept down a deserted, trash strewn alley to take advantage of their targeted prey. She had analyzed the distance from the fire escape she had been perched on to the ground, and _knew_ it was a bit too high, even for her, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

The girl was in trouble.

She could see that they were up to no good from the way they were skulking around each other, lingering in the doorways of shops that had long since closed for the night. She saw the girl leave the bar out of the side door and grip her purse to her side protectively. The thugs waited until she was a block past them before following her, in what Natasha thought was a menacing manner. She grimaced, knowing that she shouldn't get involved but felt compelled to do so anyway. This was small, of course, compared to what she had to do to clean up her ledger, but every time she saw a person in danger, or about to be taken advantage of, all she could think was, _what if that was Rebecca?_ If it was _her_ in trouble, wouldn't she move heaven and earth to help her? Only Rebecca wasn't in trouble, was she? Just left alone and broken hearted. _Stop_ , she commanded herself. _Just stop. She's not alone, she's with Clint and Wanda and the others. She'll be fine._ She drew back her focus on the task at hand and the girl who was **not** Rebecca but still needed saving.

She looked around making sure bshe/b wasn't being followed before she silently followed them as they herded the girl down a lonely looking alley. The last thing she wanted was to be interrupted. Natasha cracked her knuckles and smiled darkly. She was going to enjoy this. She climbed up the nearest fire escape to get a better view.

The girl had, by now, figured out that she was in trouble. The end of the alley was blocked by dumpsters overflowing with debris and there was nowhere else for her to go. She was facing her assailants, purse clutched in front of her protectively. Maybe she thought that if she surrendered her bag they would leave her alone. And maybe they would. But then again, maybe they wouldn't. Natasha wasn't willing to give them the chance to make that decision.

"Hey," she called out from above them, "You might want to tangle with someone your own size." Which was actually pretty funny, since they were all a lot larger than her.

They must have also thought it humorous, since they looked at each other and then back at her, grinning menacingly. The girl had backed herself up to one side of the alley, trying to look as small and inconspicuous as possible. Natasha could see her chest heaving with each panicked breath. Her heart went out to her. No one deserved to feel that way, to feel that scared. To feel as if there was no one to protect them from things like this.

One of the thugs slowly drew a short bladed knife from his belt as they walked toward the fire escape where she was perched.

Natasha's smile grew even wider.

She jumped down nimbly and faced the approaching men. She hadn't bothered wearing a mask. She never did. Why should she? With her hair covered up underneath the hat she wore, she doubted anyone would recognize her. And if they did, who cared? She was fairly certain that most men were still sexist and elitest enough to not want to admit to having their asses kicked by a woman.

As the first one neared her she darted forward and knocked his feet out from under him with one well placed sweep with her foot. He fell with a surprised "Ooomph", and the other two men looked at each other with the dawning realization that they had possibly miscalculated their opponent.

Too late.

Natasha jumped over the man on the ground and propelled herself, elbow first, into the next man. As he bent over his abdomen in pain she grabbed him by the back of his neck and threw him over her shoulder into the alley wall. He hit the bricks hard before collapsing onto the ground without a sound. The last man ran over to her, waving his knife with a scream of fury. She grabbed his wrist and yanked down sharply, turning his yell into a scream of pain as his wrist broke, effectively causing him to drop the knife. She grabbed his head and slammed it into her already rising knee. The original guy was started to get up. She crossed the alley and kicked him as hard as she could in the groin. He went down again, this time for a lot longer. She looked around the alley. All of the assailants had been taken care of. She felt a brief stab of disappointment that she hadn't even broken a sweat. A small part of her was also subconsciously disappointed that she hadn't been hurt herself, like she felt she deserved. She rose her eyes to the girl they had been chasing, she was still panting from fear, and whether it was from the men or from Natasha herself she couldn't tell. The violent way she had dispatched the thugs and the almost reckless glee that filled her while she did it was something that she knew she shouldn't be proud of, even if it had all been for the right reasons.

"You better get yourself home," Natasha said quietly to the girl. "These streets are obviously not safe at night." She adjusted her hat, turned and left, without waiting for a response from the girl. She didn't care if she did or didn't thank her, after all. This hadn't been about that. It was about protecting people the only way she felt she knew how. It was about atonement.

She smiled on the doorstep, relishing the memory. It has been another successful night.

The door in front of her opened, startling her out of her reverie. A dark haired woman had answered the door, "Yes may I help...?" The woman's slightly accented voice trailed off as recognition suddenly shone in her eyes. She swung her hand out to slap her but Natasha grabbed her wrist in a quick movement that halted her momentum.

"How dare you show your face here," the woman said, her voice gritty with emotion. "How dare you come back here. Haven't you done enough damage?"

Even after all this time, being faced with her past was never easy. "Please, Sara," Natasha said softly yet firmly. "I know you need help, that's why I'm here."

The other woman's face registered confusion as she stepped back to let Natasha in. "But, how did you know?" She asked faintly.

"I have my ways," Natasha said as she walked into the house. She wasn't about to confess all her secrets to this woman, no matter how badly she needed her to trust her. The truth was, she had contacts all over the place keeping tabs for her. It was how she knew Sara needed help in the first place. She followed the woman to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Sara still looked befuddled, like she couldn't actually believe Natasha was in her house. "I'll make some tea," she said.

Natasha glanced around the room while Sara busied herself at the stove. It was sparse, but what decorations the woman had were nice. The room had a very warm and cozy feeling to is, despite the apparent lack of money she much have. Times had not been good to Sara and her family since the last time she saw her. Natasha fought down the bile that rose in her throat. _My fault_ , she thought.

Sara walked over and set a cup in front of Natasha and another in front of herself as she joined her at the table. There was an awkward few minutes of silence as they sipped their tea and studied each other.

"You never said how you knew," Sara said, finally breaking the silence. "How did you know I needed help?"

Natasha smiled wryly. "I'm not here to talk about that. Why don't you tell me what's going on so I can figure out what I can do for you."

"It's my son...Bakir." She glanced at a photo on the refrigerator and Natasha followed her gaze to see a picture of a handsome, dark haired teenager. "He's a good boy," Sara said with pride. "But...he recently got involved with the Broken Chain." Seeing that the name meant nothing to Natasha she elaborated, "It's a Bosnian gang. One of the most powerful ones in the city."

Natasha nodded.

"It's not his fault," Sara said passionately, as if to defend her son from any silent judgment Natasha had been passing. "I do the best I can for him, but without a father figure..." she trailed off.

Natasha remained silent. The other woman didn't have to finish. She knew what she had wanted to say. _If my son still had a father, if you hadn't killed his father..._ She kept her face clear of emotion as she momentarily relived the choices she had made that had led them all here. Sara's husband, Daris, had been a brilliant Bosnian physicist who had decided to flee with his family to America rather than turn over his work to his government as they had demanded. He choice freedom over giving in to a tyrannical power. He paid for that decision with his life. The Bosnian government had contacted the Red Room operatives in Russia to tie up their loose ends. And so they sent Natasha to eliminate someone they deemed a threat. It was what she did. It was what she had been great at.

"So he joined this gang?" Natasha asked, pleased that her voice didn't display any of the emotion she was feeling.

Sara shook her head. "He did not. Not in the end. But he almost did. He passed many of their so called tests, trying to prove his loyalty. But in the end, he saw what monsters they were and told them he wanted no part in their activities."

"I bet that went over really well," Natasha said drily.

Sara scoffed. "Hardly. He knows all their faces now, knows their names. They said he has only two choices. Join or...be killed. I didn't take it seriously at first, but they beat him up pretty badly last week. And this week they threw a brick and broke our front window."

 _Their violence is escalating. Not a good sign_ , Natasha thought. "So they know where you live. And you're afraid they won't stop until either Bakir joins them or he's dead."

Sara broke down in silent tears.

Natasha wished she could go to her, comfort her, but she knew he hadn't the right. Instead she would do her best to fix the problem. "I'm going to take care of this for you," she said simply.

"How?" Sara said plaintively. "What could you possibly do?"

"I can make them never want to bother you or your son again," she replied darkly. _By making them so afraid of me they won't have any other choice but to leave you alone,_ she thought.

She got up from the table. "Thanks for the tea," she said as she headed for the door.

"I didn't say that I would forgive you," Sara said, low enough that it was almost a whisper. "Even if you do this, and you're successful, I never said if it would allow me to forgive you."

Natasha paused, her hand on the doorknob. "I know," she said.

She left the house not sure if she felt better or worse than she did before she went in.

~*~To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24: Interlude VII

**This one is dedicated to you guys, my wonderful readers! :) Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your kind and thoughtful reviews and for following this story. It means the world to me! And a special shout-out to Shunnh! Hope you're having a better day today and that this chapter helps to brighten your spirits! :) And happy holidays everyone! 3**

After spending a few hours on the streets and in various bars she finally had what she needed; a name and a location. It had taken her a little while, but fear and alcohol went a long way in the art of loosening tongues. She stopped at her apartment briefly to grab a few supplies (namely weapons) and headed back out while reviewing the intel she had received. The leader of the Broken Chain gang was called Nermin Brakjvinka. Their base was an old abandoned pharmaceutical warehouse in Hells Kitchen, near the Hudson River. _Of course it is_ , Natasha thought sarcastically. _Because gangs never seem to want to set up base anywhere clean or hospitable looking, do they?_ As she approached the building she tightened her grip on her backpack. When she had stopped at her apartment it wasn't just to pick up weapons. After a few moments of consideration she had thrown her Widow costume into her bag before leaving. These were hardened criminals and she was going in alone. She could use the intimidation factor. She could use anything that was in her favor, really. She had a moments thought of calling Matt in for backup. Black Widow and Daredevil had formed a pretty formidable team in the past, after all. But, no. Not this time. Fixing her past was up to her and her alone. She couldn't afford to bring anyone else into it. Thoughts of Rebecca swam through her mind involuntarily. She allowed herself a brief momentary respite from her current situation to bask in her memories. The way her whole face lit up when she smiled, the way her slim, white body felt under her hands, the way she had worked her way into her heart no matter how hard Natasha had tried to fight against it. She felt her whole body warm with the recollection and realized that no matter how bad things might get, she would carry the memories of Rebecca with her for as long as she lived.

 _Which might not be too much longer_ , she thought, _depending on how tonight goes._ She drew her thoughts back to the task at hand. A cool breeze coming in off the river ruffled her hair as she approached the warehouse. The taste of loneliness hung heavy in her mouth and tasted metallic. It felt as if she had been sucking on pennies. No matter how much atonement she did. no matter how many people she wiped off her ledge...it didn't seem to matter. She missed her friends, and she missed Rebecca. Crouching down by a few trash bins, she did a quick scan of the area before pulling her Widow costume out of her bag and swiftly and quietly got changed. She hid her bag behind the bins and straightened up, heading towards the front door.

...

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed that there weren't any guards posted at the front door. But she supposed if they wanted to stay hidden they would have to keep the building looking as abandoned as possible. Besides, she wasn't looking to shut down the gang altogether. All she needed was to make sure Sara and her son were left alone. Gang dynamics were tricky. In a sense, they were actually a bit like Hydra. Cut off one head and three more spring up. Plus Matt had been pretty specific about her leaving his city alone, as best she could, and since the warehouse was in Hell's Kitchen it was technically in his area of the city that he protected. She didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble for him. No. All she needed to do was go in, rough them up a bit, scare them a bit more, and hope things would work out for the best.

She tried the knob on the door and, finding it locked, pulled out her gun and shot the lock before kicking the door in. This wasn't a covert operation. She _wanted_ them to know she was here.

She walked down a dim lit hallway, the walls crumbling and saturated with mold. She wrinkled her nose in distaste as she followed the sound of voices down the corridor to a pair of big metal doors. She tried the handles and found them unlock. With a small grin, she pushed them open and strode inside the room.

There were three men surrounding a table in the middle of the room. They looked up sharply and with surprise at her sudden entrance. She quickly identified the man in the middle as the leader from the way he held himself and the arrogant gleam in his eye. She did a quick periphrial perimeter check around the rest of the room to see what she was up against. There were three other men who were scattered around the room. _So six total,_ she thought. _Shouldn't be a problem_.

"Who the fuck are you?" one of the guys asked.

She ignored him, turned to face the leader and asked with a slight nod of her head, "Are you Nermin Brakjvinka?"

He sneered at her. "Who wants to know? How did you find this place?"

She smiled back sweetly. "You left a trail of breadcrumbs so easy a toddler could have found it."

The smile faded from his face.

"I'm going to ask you again, are you Nermin Brakjvinka?"

He frowned. "You a cop?"

She folded her arms and stared. "Guess again."

Out of the corner of her eye she watched the men to her left not so subtly reach for their weapons. She tried not to smile.

"I'm here to tell you that you're going to be leaving Bakir and his family alone from now on."

He burst out laughing. "That little shit? He's nothing to us. But he is coward. Trying to back out of our gang's invitation?" He shook his head. "I think not."

"You just said he's nothing to you," she reminded him. "He doesn't want to be part of your gang. So what? Let him go. Cut your losses."

Nermin smiled darkly. "He must be made an example of."

The other men were nodding their heads in agreement. _Looks like it's not going to go the easy way,_ she thought. _Fine by me._ "I'm not going to say it again," she said. You **will** leave Bakir and his mother alone. Unless you want to suffer the consequences."

The man next to Nermin suddenly widened his eyes and leaned over and whispered something into his bosses ear. Nermin's smile grew even more wicked. "My associate tells me that we are in the presence of the legendary Black Widow. Very interesting. What business could the Black Widow have with the protection of one punk kid?

Natasha remained silent, and kept her steely gaze fixated on him.

"It is of no matter," Nermin said, clapping his hands together once. "You are an Avenger. And Avenger's don't hurt people unnecessarily. This is some kind of bluff."

Without removing her eyes from his, in one swift movement she pulled a gun from her thigh holster and shot him in the knee, shattering his kneecap.

He went down with a high pitched scream as Natasha said, "Don't count on it."

The other men were already in motion when he finally found his voice and yelled, "SHOOT THE BITCH!"

She instantly dropped down to one knee and fired her Widow's sting at the two men approaching on the left, knocking the weapons out of their hands and bringing them to the ground. One of the other men grabbed her from behind and tried to restrain her. She flung her head back into his face, knowing when she heard a satisfying crunch that she had broken his nose. She spun out of his grasp as he raised his hands to his face and kicked him in the groin.

The other two men that had been behind the table were coming at her fast, weapons drawn. She rushed toward them, not wanting them to have the benefit of momentum, grabbing one of the chairs in the process. She slammed it into the first man's legs so hard that the chair splintered apart as he fell. The second man's eyes widened in alarm as she turned her eyes to him, sizing him up. He looked as if he wanted to bolt. _Too late for that,_ she thought as she lunged for him. He had a knife in his hand and he swiped at her clumsily, trying to wound her, but she was too fast for him. She hit him hard in the solar plexus and as he doubled over she ducked behind him and wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold. He feebly tried to pry her arm away from his neck, but after a few more moments he was slumping over, half unconcious. She let him fall to the ground.

Five down, just the boss left now.

She heard a loud shot and dimly registered a fierce pain in her right arm. She turned to see Nermin facing her with a gun pointed at her. He was braced on one leg, his face a mad rictus of sweat and pain and fear. Natasha pushed through the pain and strode towards him.

His eyes widened. "You..." he gasped out. "You crazy...bitch. Shot me..."

"Yeah well, you shot me too so now we're even," she said as she grabbed the gun out of his hand with her unwounded arm and pistol whipped him across the face with it.

He spat out a tooth and a mouthful of blood before turning his hate filled gaze back to her. "You really are nuts."

"Probably," she agreed. "But I _did_ give you the easy way out earlier. You chose to do it the hard way. "So I'll say it again. Bakir and his family are under my protection. You're going to leave them alone. For good. Because if you don't...I'll know."

He panted. "They are as good as invisible, for all I care. I want nothing more to do with them."

She ruffled his hair. "Good boy." She stood back up and turned to leave, ignoring the stabbing pain in her arm and the blood dripping on the floor.

As she walked around the unconcious bodies on the ground she heard him call from behind her, "Are all Avengers as crazy as you?"

"Not even close," she said with a slightly pained smile, walking out of the room confidently.

...

She grit her teeth as the needle and thread punctured her skin. "Tell me again why I'm letting a blind guy stitch me up?" She said, wincing slightly.

"Because I'm all you've got, unless you want to go to the hospital," Matt Murdock replied wryly. "I used to patch my dad up after his boxing matches all the time, even after my accident. Besides, _you_ called _me_ , so stop complaining."

The were sitting on the couch of her apartment, her torn and bloodstained Widow costume lay discarded on the floor. She had changed into jeans and a black tank top before addressing the deep wound on her arm. Luckily, the bullet had passed through with minimal damage. Unluckily, it was in a spot that was next to impossible for her to sew back together herself. And since a hospital was most definitely _out_ of the question, it left her with few real options.

"He is never going to let me live this down," she said softly to herself as she had dialed Murdock's number, blood steadily dripping on the floor through the towel she had wrapped tightly around the wound.

To his credit, he hadn't asked any questions over the phone, just came over as quick as he could when she said that she needed his assistance. _He was probably too shocked to do otherwise,_ she thought with a snort as he continued to stitch her up. _It's not like I ask for help often._ And it had been **scary** for her to do so, even worse than anything she had faced in that warehouse. It wasn't easy for her to admit that she couldn't do something on her own.

"Just what the hell were you trying to prove?" Matt asked quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

She remained silent.

Matt sighed. "Nat," he began, "Why did you leave the Avengers and come here?"

"Because I'm a liability to them," she answered immediately.

He shook his head. "And who told you that? They did?"

She looked at him angrily. "Of course not. They didn't have to. It's all over the news, with that crap that Osborne is spouting. My past brings too much of a taint to the team. So I...so I left. They're better off without me. It was for their own good." She thought of how Rebecca must have looked when she realized that she had left. She swallowed hard. "For their own good," she said again softly, almost whispering.

"And what about **your** well being, Nat," he asked. "Who's looking after that?"

She grunted. "I can look after myself."

"Oh, sure you can," he said, gesturing to her wound that he had just finally finished stitching. "I can see that. You're a train wreck, Red Death."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me that."

He continued as if he hadn't heard her. "You hate yourself. Don't think you deserve happiness. I get that, really I do. I know you have a lot of guilt about your past, Nat. But punishing yourself won't make it better. And by leaving you punished not only yourself but the people who care about you."

Nat thought of Rebecca and wanted to cry.

"Look," he said as he got up. "I'm not telling you what to do, but I think you need to think of the larger picture in this case. It's not your past that matters. You can't change that. What you **can** change is how you handle the future."

"Thanks, Murdock," she said softly. "For the repair job...and the talk."

He smiled. "No problem. It was worth it to hear you ask for help for once."

She snorted. "If you tell anyone I'll just say you made it up."

He laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it for a minute." She started to get up and he waved her away. "I'll let myself out," he said.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Nat alone with her thoughts.

He was right about one thing at least, in her opinion. She really _had_ been a train wreck since she had left. Throwing herself into reckless and dangerous situations? And for what? Sure, she was cleaning up the streets and helping people and righting the wrongs caused by her past but was she really doing it for the right reasons? Or had she left because she was so terrified of dragging the Avengers down? Of seeing disappointment in Rebecca's eyes.

She had been keeping busy. And in her mind, the only way to escape her fears and self doubt was through the forgetfullness that action and danger brought.

She laid down on the couch, wincing as her arm rubbed against the rough material of the cushions. Maybe atonement wasn't attained through clearing names off lists. The past was the past, after all. Maybe the best path to redemption was through the relationships she had cultivated, and through camaraderie. Maybe it had to do with being a part of a team that constantly worked towards making the world a better place. Maybe it had to do with loving someone, with all her heart and being loved by that person in return. Was it possible she had had it wrong this whole time? Was what she needed in front of her all along? She felt a sudden yearning for Rebecca that went so deep it nearly brought her to her knees. She missed her. She loved her. And she was beginning to realize she had made a terrible mistake in leaving.

~*~To be continued


	25. Chapter 25

**Guys. My dearest readers. I am so so SO sorry this chapter took so long to get put up! Life and school have been bogging me down with tedious other things, you know how it is ;) Anywho, thanks for sticking with me! (and with Nat and Rebecca of course) I really love you guys and appreciate all your support! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Happy reading! :)**

She had been to New York City before, numerous times. But she had never before appreciated how truly **big** it was until she was trying to pinpoint one person's location within said city.

Ever since they had gotten there the three of them had been following lead after lead, each one eventually bringing them to a halt with no new information. She had been joyfully optimistic when they had first arrived, feeling a lot better now that she was actively searching for Natasha. Any kind of progress was better than sitting on her ass just waiting for something to happen. But after a few days with continuous dead ends she was starting to feel as if they might never find her.

The trio had just followed up on another lead that Clint had turned up. There had been a woman who said she had been saved from thugs by a red haired woman just the week before, and after hearing the story Clint had been pretty positive that it was Natasha. There were apparently a whole bunch of stories like that cropping up all over the city. A mysterious red-haired woman protecting the streets from danger. It sure _sounded_ like something Natasha would do. Protecting the innocent, bringing people to justice _her_ way. But most of the assailants had ended up in the hospital, and Rebecca was hesitant to believe that her girlfriend would leave such an obvious trail of violence behind her.

"It was her," Clint confirmed after they had spoken to the women. "I'd bet my life on it."

"I don't know," Rebecca hedged. "It doesn't really seem like she's trying to cover her tracks very well for someone who doesn't exactly want to be found. It's not very...spy like."

He snorted. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But this is her typical MO when she starts to self destruct, and from what it looks like that's what she might be doing."

Rebecca felt her throat close with panic.

Bobbi saw her face and grabbed her hand. "What Clint means," she said while shooting him a dirty look, "is that she isn't necessarily in trouble, just that she doesn't care if she eventually ends up that way." She squeezed her hand. "We'll find her."

Rebecca smiled wanly and nodded. They **would** find her. No matter what. They **had** to find her. She had to tell her how she felt about her. No matter how badly she might be afraid of being rejected after being completely honest with her feelings, she couldn't bear to keep it to herself any longer.

"We will," Clint confirmed. "She'll turn up." He grunted. "Especially if she keeps leaving behind a trail of people she's putting in the hospital."

Rebecca nodded again and continued walking. They were in lower Manhattan, just turning onto Fulton Street. It was the middle of the afternoon, yet the streets were still thronged with people. They walked past a little café that was still serving breakfast pastries despite the late afternoon hour. There was a couple seated at an outside table, and as Rebecca and her two companions walked past them she caught a whiff of the croissants and beignets they had on their plates. Her mind immediately associated it with that last morning her and Natasha had shared in Prague. Famished from spending the night in each others arms and feasting on pastries in bed that had long since gone cold. She suddenly felt the loss of her like a shard of glass through her heart; each breath causing a new stab of pain. What if she _never_ saw her again? How was she supposed to bear it?

Rebecca stopped for a minute to gather her wits She walked off the sidewalk and leaned up against the wall of the café. The stone was cold and hard against her back. She felt like banging her head against it.

"You okay?" Bobbi asked, walking over to her.

"Yeah," she replied. "Just frustrated that we haven't turned up anything solid yet."

Bobbi pursed her lips thoughtfully. "As much as I hate to ever admit it, I think that Clint's right. She's going to turn up. Especially after the way she's beating up on all the city's lowlifes." She rolled her eyes.

Rebecca raised an eyebrow at her. "I take it you don't approve?"

Bobbi sighed. "It's not that I necessarily disapprove," she said slowly. It's just that I think she could be a little less...intense about things."

Rebecca bristled. "I'm sure she has her reasons."

The blonde woman smiled. "Still defending her, are you? Even after she abandoned you?"

Rebecca looked away and didn't answer.

Bobbi sighed again. "Look, I'm not trying to put her down or anything, but maybe it's time for you to come to grips with the fact that even when we do find her, she might not _want_ to rekindle your relationship."

Her stomach plummeted. She was painfully aware of this, of course. But hearing someone say it out loud made it somehow even harder to bear. "I know," she said softly. "I'm more worried about how it will affect the Avengers if she doesn't return more than how it will affect me."

She didn't look convinced. "I just don't want you to get hurt if things don't go the way you're hoping."

Rebecca mustered up a smile. "Thanks, Bobbi."

Bobbi linked her arm around Rebecca's and pulled her back out onto the sidewalk, where Clint was waiting for them patiently.

"You ready?" He asked them. "I'm starving. We could pick up a few pizzas if you guys want?"

"Pizza sounds great," Rebecca said, sighing happily. They hadn't stopped to eat since they left the hotel in the morning, and all she had had at that point was a banana and a granola bar since they had left in a hurry. She hadn't even noticed how hungry she was getting, being fueled throughout most of the day on adrenaline and the hope of a reunion with Natasha. After that last lead was debunked however, she felt her body starting to crash.

...

A few hours later, and a few pizzas and beers later, Clint was passed out on the small loveseat in their hotel room. Aside from the piece of furniture her was sprawled out on, there were two small beds, which Clint had graciously bequeathed to the ladies. It was a small room, just shy of being cramped, but they rented it on the fly once they had arrived in the city, and since they were using their own funds rather than Shield's they had figured that sharing the one room between the three of them wouldn't be too big of a deal. And it wasn't, not really.

At least...not at first.

Rebecca had been one hundred percent comfortable around Clint from practically the first time they met. He was like a big brother to her. Or even a goofy uncle. But with Bobbi...with Bobbi it was quite different. Not to say that she necessarily felt _uncomfortable_ around her, but there was a tension between them that seemed to be getting worse rather than better. She fought against it from the first. But the harder she tried to ignore it, the worse it was. The very last thing she needed while she was tracking down her girlfriend was to start being attracted to another woman. Another _flirty_ woman.

It didn't help that she was fucking gorgeous. Her tumbled wavy blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and endlessly long legs made her avert her eyes before being consumed with dark thoughts.

She felt like a louse. The lowest of the low. But she couldn't seem to help it. It was a physical knee-jerk reaction that randomly occurred whenever Bobbi leaned in close or reached over to pinch her arm or teasingly punch her shoulder. She didn't feel any _emotional_ connection to her...but she couldn't deny the physical attraction that was there. It hung in between them, a heavy and metallic taste that clung to the back of her tongue.

But every time Bobbi laughed, or looked at her with playful eyes, she would think of Nat...and how much she missed her...and the hollow ache in her heart returned full force and threatened to shake her to the core.

As Clint snored on the loveseat and Bobbi slumbered peacefully, Rebecca sat up, alone, in her own bed, in the dark. She rubbed her eyes wearily. _Where are you Nat?_ she thought sadly.

...

Matt Murdock shook his head. "I haven't seen Natasha in over eight months," he said.

Clint sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Really."

"Really," Murdock replied.

Clint folded his arms and remained silent.

Rebecca cleared her throat. "So Mr. Murdock, you haven't heard from her at all?" Despite Clint and Bobbi filling her in on Matt Murdock's history, she hadn't been prepared for the utter intense presence of the blind man.

He turned his head so that he was facing her. "Not once," he said.

She felt her heart plummet. Bobbi had said that if there was anyone that Natasha would have contacted when reaching the city, it would have been Murdock. But it seemed as if they were back to square one.

"Well," she said as she started to stand, "thank you anyway for your time."

"What makes you think she wants to be found?" He asked her suddenly.

She froze in the middle of standing, held rigid by the presumptuous question. "Excuse me?"

He steepled his fingers together. "What if she came here to get away from you, from _all_ of you? Doesn't she deserve your respect in this decision?"

"Don't be a dick, Murdock," Clint hissed.

Rebecca waved a hand to calm him. "It's alright, Clint. It is, after all, a legitimate question."

Silence filled the room as they waited for her response. Rebecca drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to not be intimidated by this man. She knew that Nat had a past with him. Clint had filled her in on that lovely piece of information on their way up to his office. Part of her wondered if he was testing her. But another part of her recognized that he truly was interested in her answer.

"I think..." she started, "that if she wanted to truly disappear, she would have done so. She's a spy. The best of the best. I think she only came this far because deep down she _wants_ us to find her. She's confused. She's hurting. She needs us as much as we need her." She slammed a fist down on his table, causing Clint and Bobbi to both jump. "And I'll be dammed if I'm leaving this city until I find her!"

Murdock retained his composure. He smiled softly. "That's very interesting," he said quietly.

"C'mon, you two," Clint said, motioning for them to go. "We're done here." The three of them left the office, closing the door loudly as they left.

Left alone in the quiet office, Matt Murdock chuckled softly to himself. "Nat, you have your work cut out for you."

...

Rebecca let out a deep breath as they got outside. The stuffiness of the lawyer's office was stifling.

"He was lying," Clint said grimly. "I'd bet my life on it. He knows something about Nat and he's keeping his mouth shut."

"So what do we do now?" Bobbi asked.

They had pulled over to the sidewalk in front of an electronics store. "We keep searching," Clint said.

The three of them looked at the ground, no one wanting to be the one to voice the truth that they were running out of leads.

Rebecca's eye caught a flash of movement from inside the store. A television display in the window was replaying an interview with Norman Osbourne. His oily sneer turned her stomach.

"I can't stand that man," Bobbi said suddenly, furiously. "What do people see in him, anyway? I wish there was some way to call him out on his bullshit."

Rebecca continued staring at the screen, lost in thought. She thought of something Steve had said to her before they left. About doing the right thing, always, even if it wasn't the popular opinion.

Suddenly she realized that there _was_ something she could do, something that might not only help Nat but help the rest of the Avenger's as well.

"Hey guys," she said as a smile grew across her face. "I have an idea..."

~*~ To be continued


	26. Chapter 26

"Will you calm down please?" Bobbi asked worriedly. "You're even making _me_ nervous."

Rebecca stopped pacing the narrow hallway but continued to bite her lip nervously. "Sorry," she said.

Bobbi laughed. "It's alright, I know you're jittery. But don't forget that this is all about to happen because of you, you know."

Rebecca sighed. "I know, I just didn't expect it to happen so...fast."

"Friends in high places?" Clint said smugly as he leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

She snorted, "It's not me, we can thank my agent for the quick response."

As soon as she had gotten her flash of inspiration three days ago, she had called up her agent right away and started working out a plan. Clint had figured it was probably best to not let the other Avengers know, _just_ in case it somehow slipped and Shield and Maria found out.

"Not that what you're going to be doing is _wrong_ ," he hedged. "But the less she knows the better off we are, in my opinion." He grinned. "Rather beg forgiveness than ask permission."

Rebecca agreed.

Her agent, of course, was delighted with the turn of events, even though she had no idea of the real motivations behind Rebecca's plan. She was just thrilled to accept the challenge.

And just a day later, she had given her a call back saying everything was in place.

Her agent may not have been an Avenger, but when it came to media and marketing she was a superhero in her own right.

And now here they were, waiting outside the television studio, ready to talk about her book to the same newscaster that had slammed the Avengers weeks before. Her agent already had the editor going through the draft she had sent her recently, getting it ready to be published and hit the shelves. It wasn't quite ready to be printed _yet_ , but she was hoping that by doing this interview she would not only be promoting interest in the Avengers and negating some of the slander being heaped on her friends. It was also her secret hope that it might help to draw Nat out of the woodwork as well.

At least...that was the plan.

It had seemed like a brilliant idea in the beginning, and when she had shared it with Bobbi and Clint they had wholeheartedly agreed. But it wasn't until this very minute, right before going out there to talk with a man who _hated_ her friends on national television, that she began to truly understand what she was up against.

She hoped she was up to the task.

The door to the studio opened and a man with large headphones and a clipboard peered out. "They're ready for you, miss," he said.

She ran her hands over her skirt, nervously attempting to smooth any stray wrinkles that may have lingered.

Bobbi grinned at her and winked. "Knock 'em dead," she said.

Clint wrapped her in a huge hug. "You're going to be great," he said. "No worries."

Sure. Right. No worries. She took a deep breath and walked through the studio door.

...

After a few minutes Rebecca found herself wondering just what she had gotten herself into.

She found herself sitting in a semi-comfortable chair across from Michael Barone, the journalist who had been trashing Natasha and the rest of the Avengers for the past few weeks all across the news media. He was good, he had to give her that. He started out the interview nice and easy, talking about her other books, how she went about her writing process, the release date of this newest title, things to set her at ease.

She had been through enough tough interviews to know better.

She was comfortable in front of the camera, ignoring the fact that it was airing live and was being watched by potentially hundreds of people. The bright lights of the studio helped to keep her gaze from straying to the audience. She put her mental blinders on, and focused only on the task at hand, which was to keep Michael Barone from reaching any sort of high ground while they discussed her book and related safe topics such as the publication date and a few sneak peeks at the content.

When he started mentioning the Avengers themselves and their destructive nature she felt her hackles rise automatically. Forcing herself to be diplomatic she calmly countered each point he made.

 _This isn't going as bad as I thought_! she thought. _I might even get out of this unscathed_. So far he had been far less brutal to her than she had been expecting.

Suddenly he smiled, a sinister, predatory sort of smile, and Rebecca felt a slight tremor of unease. Was the interview somehow not going as well as she thought?

He leaned back in his chair. "As fascinating as all of this is, let's spice things up a bit, shall we?" The journalist obviously had something up his sleeve. The sudden change in the tone of his voice was making her skin crawl.

"We have another special guest lined up today," Barone said. "And I think it's time we bring him out."

Somehow Rebecca knew who it was before he even walked out onto the set. It could only be one person, after all, that could cause that slimeball Barone to smile so crookedly.

Norman Osbourne walked out from behind the curtain. Knowing the cameras were in all likelihood focused on her the second he walked out, she schooled herself to keep her expression neutral. Osbourne shook hands genially with Barone before making his way over to where she was sitting.

"Miss Foulks," Osbourne crooned, "I'm such a huge fan of your work. What a pleasure to meet you."

 _You've never read a damn thing I've written, you sexist pig_ , she thought as they shook hands. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her skirt as she sat back down, plastering a fake smile to her face as her heart pounded furiously in her chest. She simultaneously feared and loathed this man, who potentially held so much influence over the country. Suddenly she wished more than anything that Natasha was with her. She could have used her steady presence in this sort of situation. She thought of Maria and Steve and Wanda, who were most likely watching this unfold on tv. What must they be thinking? She thought longingly of Bobbi and Clint on the other side of the studio door.

She was on her own.

"So I hear you're quite the little fan of our American terrorists," Osbourne said to her. "Is it true you've been living with them?"

Rebecca felt a stab of anger before quickly subduing it. She wouldn't get anywhere by losing her temper. "If you're referring to the Avengers," she said slowly, "than no. I'd like to think of myself as an admirer rather than an outright fan. But yes, I have been living at the compound in order to do research for my book."

"Of course I'm referring to the Avenger's," he said with a snort. "What other group of ragtag super powered freaks do we have running around, causing mayhem?"

She met his gaze. "They're heroes, not terrorists."

He waved his hand, silently dismissing her comment. "I'm afraid we'll have to just agree to disagree," he said. "If I may speak bluntly?"

 _Like I could do anything to stop you?_ she thought with frustrastion as she remained silent.

Osbourne continued, "I have witnessed the actions of these so called 'heroes' of yours and, quite frankly, they make me fear for the state of this country. They operate unchecked and unsupervised, and promote their own will upon citizens that they have no right to interfere with. And I'm not the only one who feels that way." He leaned back, smugly folding his hands over one of his knees. "If I'm elected into office you can bet that I will be putting a stop to that sort of thing, you know."

She smiled sweetly at him and thought, _then we will just have to do our part to keep you out of office, won't we?_ Aloud she responded, "Mr. Osbourne, with all due respect, you're entitled to your opinion, but that's all it is. An opinion." She crossed her legs primly. "Now let me give you _my_ opinion, one which is based on actual _fact_. During the invasion of New York, the Avengers risked their very lives to protect us from an alien threat. A threat that we were not equipped to handle. In Washington D.C, after SHIELD fell, a few of the Avengers took on Hydra singlehandedly, without the help of the government which, I might add, due to it being completely infiltrated by **actual** terrorists. And last year, in Sokovia, they defeated a homicidal artificial intelligence who was hell bent on creating an extinction level event, wiping out the entire human population."

A steely glint had appeared in Osbourne's eyes and Rebecca felt a thrill roll down her spine. She was treading in dangerous waters. Suddenly she thought of Clint and Wanda and the times they had all laughed together so hard they could barely speak. She thought of Tony's sarcasm, Bruce's insightfulness, and the thousand other little things that made them all who they were. She thought of Steve and his integrity, and of Natasha. _Natasha_.

Mostly she thought about the way they all felt like family.

Because they were more than just the Avengers. They were _people_. And they didn't deserve to slandered this way. Especially by a piece of shit named Norman Osbourne.

Rebecca found her strength once more.

"The truth of the matter," she continued, "is that we _need_ the Avengers. Do they operate above the law? Yes. Is there damage that occurs during these battles? Of course! But look at the alternative. They answer to a higher power than any government or political agency. Themselves."

Osbourne narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying that mercenaries like the Black Widow should be allowed to do as they please? She belongs in a prison, not walking around free on the streets."

 _Here we go,_ she thought grimly as she fought her rising anger. "Natasha Romanoff is a rightful member of the Avengers and an integral part of the team."

"She's a criminal, Miss Foulks, or did she not bother to tell you anything about her past?"

"I know all about her past, Osbourne" she spat out, dimly aware that she was losing control but finding herself unable to calm down. "She was raised and brainwashed by the KGB and has since been cleared of any crimes she may have committed while under their influence. She's an Avenger. She's helped save the world countless times over."

"My, my," he drawled slowly. "You get quite hot under the collar defending their little murderer. So tell me, does this line of defense stem from a relationship that could be defined as not exactly platonic?"

Her breath caught in her throat and panic threatened to engulf her. How could he possibly...unless he had a spy at the compound? Or maybe she herself had given it away with her emotional response to his bringing up Natasha in the first place. Or maybe he didn't know anything at all and was just calling her bluff. Either way, she needed to answer him. But what could she say that would cause the least amount of backfire? How should she proceed? What was the best course of action?

As her heart raced she remembered what Steve had told her before she left. About how important it was to put together a solid and united front. How being together was more important than being intimidated.

She remembered Steve Rogers words, and smiled. What better answer was there than the truth?

"If you're asking if Natasha and I are lovers, than the answer is, yes, we are. Or rather, we were."

Osbourne's mouth dropped open slightly. He had clearly not been expecting that outright of an answer.

She continued before he could gather his wits. "But that has little to no bearing on my book, which was based on extensive research into the lives of the Avengers while living at the compound. Natasha is one of the best people I've ever met, and I am proud to be able to say that she thought highly enough of me to enter into a relationship with me. And if you're trying to discredit me personally by delving into my personal affairs, than that's _your_ problem, and really, that's a bit of a low blow don't you think?" Rebecca grinned at him. "I mean, I know you're a politician, but aren't you always proclaiming that you're above all that?"

He flushed purple in anger. "Now wait just a minute!"

"Do be sure to keep an eye out for my book once it's published," she said as she stood up. This interview was over. "I'd be happy to send you a copy. Signed, of course."

...

Clint gripped her tightly in his embrace and swung her around the hotel room. "Girly-girl, I have never been more proud of you!"

Rebecca laughed delightedly as he put her down. After the rampant anxiety she experienced during that interview, just knowing it was over was enough to send waves of bliss and relief throughout her being. "Yeah? I did alright, you think?"

Bobbi rolled her eyes playfully. "For the hundredth time, **yes!** I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk to him like that before. And especially not about us."

"Well, yeah, that was kind of the point," Rebecca said, grinning as she stuck her hands in her pockets. She was hoping that seeing that a regular person like her stand up to a bully like Osbourne would encourage others to do so. And hopefully realize that he and his toady Barone were totally wrong about the Avengers. "Do you think Wanda saw it? What about Steve? And Maria?"

"Honey," said Clint laughing, "I think _everyone_ saw it."

"Oh god," Rebecca blanched.

"Finally hitting home, huh?" Bobbi asked.

"It's not that," Rebecca said as she covered her face with her hands. "I just realized that my _parents_ could have seen it! They had no idea I was dating women!"

Clint snorted. "Well, they certainly know now."

Rebecca groaned into her hands.

He patted her shoulder. "For once, try not to worry about it, okay? You did good tonight." He clapped his hands together. "What do you guys say to me picking up a couple six packs and we celebrate?"

Bobbi crossed her arms and grinned ruefully. "Will there be food involved? Or are you planning on us just being a trio of drunk, blithering idiots?"

Clint barked out a laugh. "When have I ever neglected to involve food when I'm planning something?"

The blonde woman snorted.

Clint's phone rang, and as he stepped outside the room to answer it, Rebecca looked at Bobbi with worry etched in her face. "Do you really think any good will come of it? The interview I mean?"

Bobbi ran her hand along Rebecca's arm in a reassuring manner. "I'm sure it did. If even _one_ person realized what a creep Osbourne is from that interview than it was worth it. Plus, it probably felt really good, right?"

Rebecca smiled in response.

"I noticed, by the way," Bobbi said, "that you talked about your and Natasha's relationship in the past tense?"

Rebecca shrugged self-consciously. "I didn't think it was right to assume we were still together without her being here to agree or not agree with it, despite what I might want."

Bobbi raised an eyebrow at her. "So you're admitting it might be over?"

Rebecca raised her hands in defense. "I'm just saying that even though I still want us to be together, she left. She might not want me anymore." She sighed. "She might never want me again."

The blonde woman pulled her forward into a kiss.

Rebecca was so surprised she didn't know what to do. Her brain started to misfire as her body instinctively reacted and responded to the other woman's lips on hers. She felt her tongue slide across her lips and her heart suddenly caught up to the rest of her, screaming mutely _Wrong, this is WRONG!_

She pulled away from the other woman, panting hard.

Bobbi frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I can't," Rebecca gasped. "I just can't, Bobbi. I'm sorry. As much as I might want to, and **believe** me, I want to, I just can't. Not now. And maybe not ever."

"But," Bobbi said, "I thought you said that you and Nat…."

Rebecca shook her head. "I said that Nat might be finished with me, I never said I was finished with her."

"I don't understand."

She shook her head again. "I love her Bobbi. I _love_ her. Even if she doesn't care about me anymore, it doesn't matter. I will always love her. I'll always be hers, even if she doesn't want me." She laughed shakily. "And I'm guessing she _doesn't_ want me, or she wouldn't have run away. But that doesn't change the way I feel." She groaned again. "You must be thinking how pathetic I am."

Bobbi smiled warmly. "Not at all. I'm thinking she's lucky to have you."

Clint threw the door open, and it hit the wall with a loud bang.

"What the hell, Clint?" Bobbi asked, aggravated.

He held up his phone and waved it at them. "That was Murdock on the phone," he said.

"What did he want?" Rebecca queried.

Clint grinned. "He said he knows where Nat is."

~*~ To be continued


	27. Chapter 27

**The Only Exception: Chapter 27**

"So..." Rebecca asked as her and Bobbi followed Clint down the hotel stairwell and out into the street. "Why did Matt suddenly forget that he knew where Natasha was the first time we talked to him?"

"He said that she hadn't wanted to be found," Clint replied, "and that he was just honoring her wishes by being discreet."

It was pretty much what she had figured.

"I still think it was a dick move," Bobbi said in a huff.

Rebecca couldn't help but agree. "So what changed his mind?" she asked.

Clint turned and smiled at her. "You did, Becks."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?" she asked with surprise.

He put an arm around her and guided them away from the curb and into a less busy section of the sidewalk. "He saw the interview. Well," he amended, "he **heard** the interview, anyway. He called me up right after listening to it."

"And that was enough to get him to divulge her whereabouts?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged. "All I know is that he said that after hearing it he felt that it was more important that she had the support of someone like you rather than stay hidden."

She blushed. "Well, I'm certainly glad he changed his mind."

"I still think it was a bit presumptuous to think that was his decision to make in the first place," Bobbi grunted. "Who does he think he is, anyway?"

Clint laughed. "That's just Murdock. He can be very high handed sometimes. Well, most of the time. But like Becks said, the main thing to concentrate on is that we know where she is. Or rather, we know where she _was_. Murdock hasn't heard from her since that one time so he's not even sure if she's still there or not. She could be long gone by now. But it's a start. And it's the best one we've had so far."

"Let's get a move on, then!" Rebecca said, grabbing Clint and Bobbi's arms and pulling them along. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, yet was well aware of the shiver of nervousness that skittered through her. Was this it? Had they finally found Natasha?

...

The trio headed down to the subway terminal and hopped on the train, taking it all the way down to Queens. They followed Murdock's directions until they reached Horner Ave, a desolate looking street with even more desolate looking buildings. Clint gave Bobbi a grim look that he meant to hide but Rebecca caught anyway. What was Natasha _doing_ in a place like this? The building they approached was dilapidated and looked as if it had seen better days.

Days that had existed decades ago, if the amount of litter strewn about was any indication.

Clint took the lead as they headed up the stairs, which curved toward the top and led into a dingy, dim lit hallway. They could hear loud bass music coming from one of the rooms. Rebecca's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Now that the moment was upon her, she felt simultaneously torn between wanting to keep going forwards and to turn around and run out of the building and never look back. She couldn't seem to rectify those two warring components that raged inside her. She took a deep breath and mentally stabled herself. _You got this_ , she said to herself. _It's just Natasha_. But if it _wasn't_ still Natasha? If she was through with being an Avenger and through with being in a relationship with her? What then? She pushed the negative thoughts away and walked up to the door. She looked back tentatively at Clint and Bobbi, who were a few steps behind her.

Clint crossed his arms. "We'll be right here, Becks, if you need us."

Bobbi smiled grimly and nodded in agreement.

Slightly fortified by their presence, she summoned up all the courage she had and knocked on the door.

The world seemed to slow and then stop completely in the span of time she stood in front of the door, waiting. She couldn't even feel her heartbeat and wondered for a split second if she was about to pass out. She heard movement on the other side of the door, a soft rustle and then a tiny click of a chain sliding across the lock and it was open, and she was face to face with Natasha.

She didn't realize how much seeing her again would affect her, it was like getting punched in the stomach. She wasn't prepared for the train of emotions that were pummeling her. All this time searching, and she didn't even consider how hard this would be. The red haired woman looked wan, with dark circles under her eyes, and she seemed thinner than she had been the last time she saw her.

She was still the most beautiful thing Rebecca had ever seen.

Natasha didn't seem surprised to see her at all. At the sight of her, her eyes sparkled and a small smile danced across her face. "I figured you'd find me sooner or later," she said. What gave me away, it was Murdock, wasn't it?"

Rebecca nodded slowly. "Yes, partly. It didn't help that you were leaving a trail of beat up thugs in your wake. What were you _thinking_ , Nat?!"

The other woman sighed, taking a step back to allow Rebecca access to the apartment. She walked in, her eyes roving the contents of the room, or the lack of contents. There was a beat up couch, one lamp on a small table, and the tiny cramped looking kitchen didn't even have any chairs.

Rebecca turned and looked at her incredulously. "Where do you even eat?" She asked.

Natasha shrugged. "Standing up by the sink, usually. Although I'm not here very much, to be honest."

Rebecca grit her teeth. _Of course she's not here much, she's out beating the shit of people probably twenty four seven._

"I've missed you," Natasha said quietly, her eyes averted. She had said it so quietly that Rebecca almost didn't hear it.

Her heart pounded fiercely. She felt hot and cold and could barely separate one emotion from another. She was torn between utter relief from finding her, being sick with worry with the way in which she had been living, anger at being abandoned, and almost drunk with bliss at being told she had been missed.

Without missing a beat she went with her gut instinct and followed the hottest emotion.

She strode across the room and slapped her right across the face.

The sound of the resounding crack cut through the silence, shocking them both.

The first immediate thought that crossed her mind after doing it, was, _holy shit I slapped an Avenger, no, I slapped the BLACK WIDOW_! She half expected the woman to pick her up and throw her through the front door.

Instead Natasha just gazed back at her, a slightly sad expression on her face. "I believe I deserved that."

"How could you do this to us, Nat?" she asked, her voice high to the point of almost being hysterical but she couldn't seem to reign herself in. Her usual calm self was being unraveled at the speed of light by the tangle of emotions spooling through her. "How could you just leave us like that, without a word, without anything? How could you do that to _me_?!"

"I thought you were all better off without me, okay?!" Natasha growled. "With my past, the things I've done...I was just bringing down the integrity of the team! They don't need me."

"And what about me, Natasha?" Rebecca asked softly. "I don't need you either, is that what you're saying?"

"You're better off without me." Natasha said, looking away.

Rebecca felt another flash of anger flow through her hotly. "You don't get to make that decision for me, Natasha. You can't tell me what's right or what's wrong for me. Only I have the right to decide that. I love you, dammit!" She covered her mouth with her hand as soon as she said it. It had flown out of her almost without warning. Now that she said it the words hung heavy in the space between them.

They stood looking at each other in silence for a moment. Rebecca was afraid she was going to choke on her heartbeat, which was beating so hard in her throat.

"What did you say?" Natasha asked quietly, her eyes wide.  
Rebecca swallowed. There was no turning back now. "I said...I said that I love you, Natasha."

"But..." the other woman started, "my past, who I used to be..."

Rebecca cut her off. "I don't _care_ about who you used to be, Nat, because that's not who you are _now_. It's a part of you, but it doesn't define you. You've learned from your past, moved on, grown stronger, and become the amazing woman you are now. A hero. An Avenger. A woman that I am _proud_ to be in love with. A woman that I want...to share the rest of my life with." Her voice stammered. Her legs started to buckle. She had never been more terrified in her entire life. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob.

Natasha pulled her into her arms and began to cover her face with kisses. "My darling, I love you," she murmured between each kiss, "I love you, my darling."

Rebecca instantly felt herself relax in her arms. It was natural. It was instinct; as easy as breathing. She tilted her head until her lips met Natasha's, which were salty from tears of her own. She parted them with her tongue and slipped hers inside, tongues meeting in a hot clash of long suppressed passion.

"Do you really" Rebecca gasped out, "you really love me, too?"

"Of course I do, you silly thing," she replied huskily. "I love you and you scare the hell out of me."

Rebecca felt as if she might right there on the spot. She couldn't remember a time she had ever felt more happy. It had to be a dream. There was no way in the world she had ever done anything to deserve this feeling. To deserve this feeling.

"And you really love me?" Natasha asked, wiping the tears from Rebecca's eyes. "Even after all this? Do you forgive me?"

Rebecca let out a long happy sigh. "I think I've always loved you. And I forgive you as long as you promise to never leave like that again," she said as sternly as she could. "If you have a problem, or a worry, come and talk to me about it. We'll work it out, together."

"Agreed," Natasha said, smiling blissfully. "So what have you been up to since I've been gone, Kotkyu?"

Rebecca grinned and breathed in her scent, causing her stomach to do a little flip flop of happiness. "Oh you know, the usual. Finished my book. Fought with Osbourne on national television. And I bought a house."

Natasha pulled away incredulously. "Wait. Your book is done? Hang on. Osbourne?! And what house?!"

She laughed at her shocked expression. "I can fill you in on everything on the way back. But yes, I did buy a house. It's not too far from the compound, so you could come by whenever you want. Or you know...if you wanted to stay there...you know, with me..." She trailed off, flushing bright red.

Natasha smiled. "I've never had a real home before. I could get used to the idea. Especially if it's with you." She leaned forward to kiss her.

A loud banging on the door startled them both. Rebecca heard Clint exclaim, "are you two fighting in there? Or having sex? Either way can we come in? This hallway smells really awful. And I'm pretty sure I just saw a rat run by."

"It's good to know you didn't come on your own," Natasha said with a wry grin.

Rebecca shook her head. "I don't know what I would have done without Clint and Bobbi there to help me."

"Bobbi?" Natasha asked. "You mean Barbara Morse?"

She nodded.

"What exactly is Bobbi Morse doing here?" Natasha asked, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness.

 _Oh boy_ , Rebecca thought. "She came along with Clint to help track you down."

"Bobbi Morse the flirt? Bobbi Morse the blonde seducer of everyone she comes across? Particularly young attractive women?"

Rebecca flushed. "Ah, yeah, that would be her."

Natasha squeezed her hand tightly. "I think we'll be talking more about this later on, won't we? Among other things, of course."

Rebecca laughed delightedly. It seemed like forever since she had laughed, or felt this wonderful. Natasha was back. Everything was going to be alright.

"Yes ma'am," she replied. "As long as you promise not too bruise me too badly. From what I hear you've been on a pretty wicked violent streak lately, darling."

Natasha chuckled and leaned forward, biting gently on her earlobe. "With you, love, I'll always be gentle. Unless you specifically request otherwise."

~*~ To Be Continued


	28. Chapter 28

**Wow. This is it guys, the very last chapter. It's hard to believe, and I almost don't want to believe it, because I long to stay in this world forever. It's been a long and wonderful journey writing this fic, and I am almost heartbroken to be finishing it with this last chapter. But who knows? Maybe we'll see them again in another story sometime. ;) Sorry if it's a bit sappy, but I figured I tortured these two enough during the last twenty or so chapters, they pretty much deserve a nice, happy ending, don't you think? :) I want to one last time thank all of you guys so very much from the bottom of my heart for following and reviewing and loving this story and these characters as much as I do. I couldn't have done it without your support, so thank you all so much! 3**

 **The Only Exception: Epilogue**

The next month and a half passed by in a blur. Once Clint, Bobbi, and Rebecca returned to the Avengers compound with Natasha, everyone it seemed wanted to see her and welcome her back. For the most part, it was a friendly homecoming. There were some ball-breaking comments from Tony, which everyone expected, and a warm and pleased welcome from Steve and the rest of the Avengers. When Maria called her into her office, Natasha emerged an hour later, red faced and triumphant, while Maria came out looking quite shaken.

After that, it was the last anyone had mentioned Natasha's disappearance or her subsequent return.

All anyone wanted to talk about, it seemed, was Osborne's drop in popularity and in the polls. Ever since he was humiliated on national television, his numbers had been steadily decreasing. Rebecca swore it had nothing to do with her and more to do with the public finally starting to realize how much of a evil spirited bigot he was. But Natasha's eyes sparkled with pride whenever the topic came up and she looked at her.

Since her book was finished, and ready for publication, there wasn't any reason for Rebecca to continue living at the compound. The realtor had the paperwork all ready for her when she got back, so all that was left was to move her belongings to the new house. Seeing it again made her love it even more than the last time she saw it. She still had the rest of her belongings to bring up from her old apartment, of course, but that could be done over the course of a few weekends. She was enjoying setting things up in a place she finally felt was all hers, a place near her friends; a place she belonged. The first check from her agent had come in, and her and Wanda had spent a long weekend picking out various furniture pieces and having, overall, a very fun time indeed.

Natasha had been coming by at nights and on the weekends, when she wasn't tied up with training or missions. The first time she had come by, she passed through the rooms slowly, silently, running her hands along the furniture and door frames as if she were committing it to memory. She hadn't officially moved in yet, although she spent most of her free time there. It was an adjustment for her; having a home, a person and a place that was permanent, and Rebecca understood that it would take some time to get used to the idea. She told her to take all the time in the world, but she did long for the day when she wouldn't have to watch her receding figure leaving the driveway at the end of the day or first thing in the morning.

She thought of where she was and who she had been six months ago and almost couldn't believe how much had changed...in a good way.

She looked out the window, watching the sparrows crowd each other at the birdfeeder she had hanging on the front porch, and smiled softly.

Life was good.

She saw the first car roll up the gravel driveway and couldn't help but smile. Her friends were starting to arrive.

It was the day of Wanda's Birthday party.

...

It was a small affair, planned by Vision, and when he had asked her to have it at her place she was overjoyed. He invited only a few people, just the other Avengers and their significant others, if they were available to come, and as the house filled with people as the night wore on, Rebecca's heart warmed and she felt so overwhelmed with warmth and happiness she thought she would burst.

When Wanda finally walked in, and everyone yelled surprise, she was so pleased she burst into tears.

"Don't look at me," Rebecca said with a grin as her friend turned her gaze to her. "This was all thanks to Vision."

Vision was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking as if he wasn't sure what to do next. "I just wanted to make sure your Birthday was enjoyable, Wanda," he said.

Without even hesitating she flew into his arms and enveloped him in a hug. "Oh thank you, Vee," she said, over come with emotion. "Thank you!"

Vision looked startled, then pleased as he held her in his arms.

The rest of the party clapped and cheered.

Clint looked as if he would like nothing more than to intervene, possibly with force.

Rebecca slid her arm through his. "Easy there, papa bear," she said with a grin. "They're fine, leave them alone."

"But they..." he sputtered, "She..."

She squeezed his arm. "They're _fine_ ", she reiterated.

...

Dinner passed by with no incident, the restaurant that had catered and delivered the food had been excellent. Vision had insisted on baking the cake himself, which turned out to be a slight issue when Tony bit into his slice and realized that he had used salt instead of sugar. Luckily, Pepper had brought cupcakes as a precaution, which turned out to be a stroke of genius when considering Visions baking skills.  
The wine flowed, the glasses emptied, and the wine flowed again.

...

Later in the evening, as they all stood around in small groups talking, Rebecca's phone vibrated in her pocket.

"Oh god," she said blanching as she pulled it out and looked at it.

"Who is it?" Wanda asked, looking over her shoulder.

"My mother," she replied, hitting the ignore button and slipping the phone back into her pocket.

"You don't want to speak with her?" Wanda asked.

Rebecca laughed nervously. "Ah, no. Not really. She's been hounding me ever since she saw that interview. You know, the one where I admitted to dating a woman on national television. She grimaced. "I'm really not looking forward to that conversation."

Wanda snorted. "You faced Norman Osborne head on and you are telling me that you are scared of your own mother?"

Rebecca turned and caught her in a hug, grinning. "That's because you don't know her," she said.

"Know who?" Natasha said, walking up and slipping her arm around Rebecca's waist, effectively stupefying any coherent sentence she might have wanted to utter.

Wanda saw her expression and laughed. "We were talking about Beck's mother," she said. "Apparently she's very terrifying."

Natasha scoffed. "She doesn't scare me."

Rebecca laughed. "Just wait until you meet her. You'll see."

Wanda smiled at them. "I'm going to go see if Vision needs anything." She walked away, leaving both women alone.

"Hi," Rebecca said breathlessly.

"Hi," Natasha said, kissing her shoulder.

"Did I happen to tell you," Rebecca asked, "how beautiful you look tonight?"

Natasha laughed. "You did, as a matter of fact. About ten times already."

She was wearing a long black skirt with a slit up the side, with a black top that buttoned in the front. Her hair fell in soft auburn waves against her neck, and she looked so absolutely delicious that it was all Rebecca could do to keep her hands off of her.

Natasha raised Rebecca's hand and laid a kiss against the inside of her wrist. Rebecca felt her pulse spike and her heartbeat throb against the other woman's lips. Natasha bit down gently on the soft skin there, causing a thread of desire to tighten within her. A sound somewhere between a hum and a growl rose from her lips. It was Natasha's way of asserting dominance.

And it was sexy as hell.

Clint had wandered over and was eyeing them with humored disgust. He snorted and rolled his eyes. "You guys are too fucking weird sometimes, I swear."

"Feel free to look away if it's too much for you, Clint," Natasha said, smiling mischievously.

He shook his head and walked away, chuckling.

Rebecca stood there, still speechless as Natasha looked at her, her eyes glowing with wicked intentions. "Think they'll notice if we slip away for a bit?" she asked.

"No," Rebecca gasped out. "But even if they do, I'm really not sure that I care."

"That's my girl," Natasha said as she grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards the stairs.

...

Rebecca had barely closed the door of the bedroom behind them both before Natasha was upon her. She fumbled behind her in an attempt to find the light switch.

Natasha growled, "leave it," against her lips.

She left it.

The voices and laughter from the guests downstairs were a dim noise in the back of Rebecca's head which was being swiftly drowned out by the dull roar of her heartbeat which seemed to be resounding in her head. She had wanted to touch her all night, and now that she finally _was_ , she thought she might die from the sheer exquisite delight of feeling her hands against Natasha's skin.

Rebecca ran her fingers through her hair, tightening her grip as she pulled her closer, eliciting a pleased hiss from Natasha and causing her to push her against the door even harder.

Their mouths met in a furious tangle of tongues and lips and teeth. She didn't think there was a time when she had been more turned on. She felt as if she were on fire.

She ran her hands up Natasha's torso and fumbled with the buttons on the front of her shirt.

Natasha pushed her hands away and whispered, "there's no time for that, kitten. I need you and I need you _now."_

Rebecca shuddered as a wave of desire pulsed through her. Without missing a beat Natasha ran a hand up her thigh and slowly, torturously slid a finger along the edge of her panties. She mewled in frustration and thrust her hips against the other woman, trying to get more of the sensation. She was half crazed with arousal, her thoughts misfiring from one thought to another with no coherence, her body careening towards an orgasm and she had barely even been touched yet. She flushed, embarrassed.

Even in the dark Natasha could sense her reaction. "I love that you get this hot for me," she whispered before softly biting her neck. "You're always so wet; so ready to go." She quickly pulled her panties aside and plunged two fingers into her heated sex.

Rebecca cried out in pleasure as she rocked her hips to the rhythm of Natasha thrusting in and out of her.

Natasha chuckled huskily. "Quiet, Becks, or do you want all your guests to hear me fucking you?"

Rebecca let out one more strangled cry before Natasha covered her mouth with hers, swallowing the rest of her moan with a kiss. She increased the pace, using her thumb to caress the tip of her clitoris with each thrust.

It was enough to send her plummeting off the edge.

She saw sparks as she came.

It took a few moments to come back down, which felt more like an eternity as she stood there, trembling, clinging to Natasha as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Wow," Rebecca said as she slid her back down the door onto the floor, finding herself suddenly unable to stand. "That was..." she trailed off, unable to locate a word that accurately summed up being screwed senseless against your bedroom door with a houseful of guests downstairs.

"I like leaving you speechless," Natasha said, joining her on the floor. She laid her head in her lap and looked up at her quietly, her green eyes visible in the patch of moonlight that was splayed across the room through the window. Rebecca ran her fingers through her red, silky locks, brushing the stray tendrils away from her face.

"What are you thinking?" Natasha asked her.

Rebecca smiled softly. "Just that I can't even fathom what I did to deserve you."

Natasha intertwined their fingers together. "I just thinking the same thing," she said. "So how about this then," she said, "I say we just plan on spending the rest of forever trying to make each other happy. How does that sound?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rebecca said as tears filled her eyes and her heart rose in her throat, leaving her unable to respond further. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest, she was so happy.

Natasha chuckled softly. "Now you're learning," she said, "that's exactly the answer I was looking for, kotkyu."

She leaned up to press her lips once more against Rebecca's.

~*~ Finis


End file.
